The Beauty and the Wolf
by Medandstuff
Summary: I left Kings Landing with a heart heavier than the walls that compassed the castle I grew up in. There was no turning back in this case; I had to play the role of Lady Tania Stark of Winterfell. AU - Robb/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Author´s note: This is my first GoT fanfic. FYI in this fic Joffrey doesn´t exist.**

**Beauty and the Beast**

**Chapter 1**

_A princess follows her duties._

_A princess never shows weakness._

_A princess only makes decisions that please her folks. _

_A princess never lets harm come to her followers._

_A princess does not dishonor her house. _

All the lessons from Septa Elisa swirled through my mind, like the snow outside of this carriage swirls in the bitter cold air of the north. The white sheen covered the landscape entirely; the world seemed to turn into black and white, no other color peeking out. Outside I could hear hooves of at least ten horses – maybe fifteen - all muffled by the cold fluff beneath them.

I recognized my father´s fleeting form at the helm of the party. The black horse seemed to suffer under his noticeable weight, but his statue was manly, his head held high, his view strictly on the road they had been following for weeks now. From day to day I have watched summer turn into winter in less than a month, the hot long days turning into short cold ones, the overwhelming nature losing all it´s colors, the singing birds being replaced by croaking ravens. It was surely the most depressing thing I have ever seen and lived through in my whole life. But the most depressing is yet to come, my Father King Robert of the House Baratheon, first of his name, has decided that it was time for me to wed no other than Lord Eddard Stark´s son, the future Lord of Winterfell, Robb Stark. He and Lord Stark have been friends for a life time and he always wanted them to join houses.

My mother was in rage when she found out about his plans. Cersei as a real Lioness had shown my father her teeth, trying to protect her cub. I can still hear her shouts that echoed in the hallways of the Castle. Vases splattered and fell into thousand pieces after they hit the wall. But in the eyes of my father her outburst was exaggerated. The conversation ended with "I _am_ the King, you can not forbid me anything." Then he turned his heels and slammed the heavy wooden door shut behind him. Uncle Jamie gave me and his twin sister a worried look, but sprints in the direction the King left, following his duty right after I kneeled down beside my crying mother. My thin arms snaked around her shaking form, whispering smoothing words into her ear to ease her pain as I swallowed the curses that were meant for my father. I didn´t cry, because I knew this day would come. I knew I had to do, what every other highborn women does when she reaches the right age. What my mother did, my Grandmother and all the others before her. They had to wed and give birth to future Lords and Ladies. This was usual at my age, others marry earlier, even before they have bled. I had luck that I got to spent so many years at home. But still I left Kings Landing with a heart heavier than the walls that compassed the castle I grew up in. There was no turning back in this case; I had to play the role of Lady Tania Stark of Winterfell.

A silent knock on the Window next to me brought me back to the present. Under a helmet I could recognize the emerald green eyes of my Uncle, Jamie Lannister, better known as the Kingslayer. His gloved finger pointed up a hill. A gasp escaped my mouth as I saw the oldest castle in all the seven kingdoms my father ruled over. My Septa told me that it was built eight thousand years ago by Brandon the Builder, with the help of giants. The part with the giants sounded rather queer to me, mostly because why would a 12 feet high being take orders from Men, they could squash with their hand. The northerners call them their bane and their brothers. Thanks to the seven they are almost gone, I don´t think that I could spend the rest of my life among hairy creatures with squashed-in faces and square teeth.

_The rest of my life, _my own voice echoed in my head. I have tried to avoid this topic. But here we are now, in front of the gates of Winterfell. And each thought I pushed away came crushing down on me.

I didn´t realize how hysterical I got until a hand squeezed mine, to calm me down. My eyes wandered over the hand to meet the eyes of it´s owner. The typical Lannister emerald green eyes of my mother were filled with worry and sadness. A small wrinkle appeared on the forehead of her perfect face and my firm fingers reached out to smooth it. "Oh my baby" she whimpered, these were the first words I heard in hours, despite the ones in my head.

I gazed down at my clenched hands placed on my lap. I didn´t dare to look up, afraid of what I will find. But the same hand from before, now lifted my chin, forcing me to do exactly what I feared. "Sweetling" my mother began softly "I know it´s hard. You can´t even imagine how I feel about losing you. I´m your mother, i´ve been with you all your life. Know that this isn´t the life I wanted for you."

I didn´t answer, instead I exhaled sharply through my teeth. Seeming to realize that I won´t speak, my mother went on: "I wish – I wish I could do anything about it. But we women never got to choose. The men always made the choices for us and we obeyed. We can only make it easier for us, when we wear a smile. So would you please do me a favor and give me a bright smile?"

I put on a price-worthy fake smile, that I have to use more often now than usual. Mother always said it´s one of the women´s most powerful weapon, that, her tears and not to forget the one between her legs. As a maiden my cheeks always flush bright pink at the thought of that. One of the annoying habits I had was definitely blushing; I did it all the time; when I get compliments and when someone talks about unladylike topics, which happens more often than I wished.

A ghost of a smile appeared on my mother´s face, she nodded approvingly at my smile and turned to wake sleeping Myrcella up. Tommen beside me had talked to Mary, my handmaiden, about the visit ahead of us, not hiding his excitement. He has been talking for a while now, funny how I managed to blend his squeaky voice out. A minute ago there were only me and my mother, no one else.

Then the carriage stopped moving.

"Perhaps it´s not going to be that bad." I tried to sweeten the blow.

**Good? Bad? Shall I continue or let it be? Review please J**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author´s note: **

**Hey guys**

**The story actually has followers, LET ME LOVE YOU**

**Thanks a lot to the ones that favorite this fanfic.**

**And a special thank you, with rainbows and glitter on it to rikka21, nightwatchers2, Carlypso & to Florence, who reviewed. **

**Dresses in this Chapter (remove spaces) :**

** Arrival - agameofclothes****.tumblr.  
com/post/39078613444/what-cersei-would-wear-in-the-autumn-oscar-de-la**

**Feast – littlefindsforgot. tumblr.**

**com/post/33783930567/followers-choice-who-would-wear-this-reem**

**Chapter 2**

_"She belongs to Fairytales,_

_that I could never be."_

_- Love Song Requiem_

My mother gave me one last soothing look before she followed all the maidens out of the carriage. The moment she stepped out, she wasn´t the loving mother anymore, no, she turned into the Queen of Westeros. Her warm, worried face expression turned into a hard, cold one, suitable to the weather in the north.

My golden colored skirt held up off the ground and out of the way of my feet in one hand, whilst the other one held the outstretched hand of who I assumed was my Uncle Jaime; I stepped out to expose myself to the silent crowd. It felt like throwing myself in the mouth of the unknown, the eyes of strangers were on me as I walked on foreign ground. These strangers are soon to become my people; I was soon to become their Lady. The pressure of their stares was like a rock on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I dug my nails into the leather of Jaime´s gloves as if they were the only thing that kept me on my feet. "Never forget who you are." His soft voice whispered in my direction.

As if these were some magic words, the rock split in two and fell down to my feet. My back straightened and a cold masque flushed over my face, like a wave it removed any emotion that was there moments ago. _I am Princess Tania Baratheon, the daughter of the ruler of the seven Kingdoms, I am not weak, I will not let these people intimidate me. _Pride radiated out of the position my body had formed now.

I let my hand slide out of my Uncle´s and mouthed him a short _thank you_, before my gaze wandered over the people bowing in front of my father. Their eyes were now strictly on the mud beneath them, their bodies stiff. A small movement of the King´s hand and they were released from their position. My father eyed a man, who was most probably the Lord of this castle.

"You got fat", my father let out with a grunt. I refrained from rolling my eyes at that, but couldn´t stop the quiet sigh that escaped my mouth. Sometimes I wonder if he´s ever shown some act of formality. With all the whores tip toeing out of his chambers I assume not.

"Where´s the Imp?" asked a little girl in the front line. Speaking of whores, they were my uncle´s favorite hobby and I had no doubt that they had something to do with his disappearance. He was, oh well, really passionate about his hobby.

"Where is our brother?" I heard my Mother hiss.

"Where do you think he is?" I said as if it was most obvious. I heard Jaime´s chuckle, his armor rustling under his movements. I pressed my lips together to prevent myself from smiling at my mother´s blank expression. When I and Uncle Jaime team up, it never ends well, much to her despise.

"Come to me, my little Dove" My head shot up at my father´s nickname for me, I hated it. I had nothing in common with those stupid birds. I had a lot of nicknames, but I disliked this one the most, doves are weak, small and white. They were the opposite of me, I was neither weak, small nor white. I was strong, not physically, but mentally. I was tall, at least as tall as my mother and I had long hair that rather had the color of a raven´s feathers than a dove´s.

I turned around to my mother pleading for help, but she just nodded, gesturing to obey him. I exhaled deeply before I dragged myself towards my father and his old friend.

I put on my previously practiced fake smile when I was just a few steps away from them.

"Aye and what a beauty she is" Lord Stark said with a smile forming on his lips.

"You flatter me, my lord" I said politely, my cheeks flushed into a light pinkish hue at the compliment he gave me. The Lord took my right hand and kissed the ring I got for my 16th name day. It was golden with my family´s sigil engraved in; the Stag´s eyes were replaced by small emeralds. I wore it ever since my father placed it on my finger.

To his left stood Catelyn Stark née Tully, as her blue eyes met mine she curtsied and murmured "My Princess"

"Lady Catelyn, it´s a pleasure to meet you" I said softly as she lifted herself. She gave me a warm smile that I gladly returned.

"Come, princess, I want you to meet my Son" Lord Stark said, with his hand on my back he led be to my betrothed. I felt my knees weaken as we came closer to the _target_. The thrumming cacophony between my head and my chest made it unbelievably hard to think straight, with every step I took it got louder. When I noticed brown boots made of deer hide, in front of my white shoes, I knew that we´ve reached him. Still I didn´t look up, like a heavy anchor was around my neck drowning me in the sea, preventing me from breathing, muting all the sounds around me.

_Who was Robb Stark? Was he caring? Scaring? Loving? Possessive? Cold? Bold? Mysterious? Charming? Romantic? Rude? Nice? Formal? Customary? Adventurous? Strong? Amusing? Ignorant? Mischievous? Arrogant? Desirable?_

Unfamiliar fingers placed themselves under my chin and pushed my head out of the water. Suddenly I could perceive every sound around me again, murmurs, people clearing their throats, horses whinnying. This would be the first time I lay eyes on my future husband, Robb Stark. They bored into eyes as blue as the sky in king´s landing, my home, eyes like home. My mind immediately created a crib between those eyes and home, without me wanting it. But there was no sign of warmth in them, no, they seemed to be as cold as the frozen earth beneath us. Dark Auburn locks were falling into them, creating a great contrast. Still my fingers tingled to remove them, but I couldn´t gather the courage to do so. I didn´t feel like a lion or a stag, I felt like a cub, like a fawn getting approached by a wolf. Fear clung around my heart as he kept his eyes on me.

"My-My Lord" I stuttered silently. _Seven hells, I sound like a little feared little girl. _I mentally hit myself for acting this way, it was childish how uncomfortable I felt in this situation. Other men have flirted with me, they wanted my hand in marriage, they stared at me and other things my mind is too dizzy to remember, but Robb Stark, the man I was supposed to live with, left me utterly stunned. Thankfully my knees were steadier than my voice.

His fingers left my chin and reached for my hand. His eyes never leaving mine, he brought my hand to his lips and placed a tender kiss on it. His lips were roughed by the bitter cold northern air, the sensation of them making contact with my sensitive skin, sent unexpected chills down my spine and I shuddered lightly.

"My princess" his deep voice added to the horribly formal act.

* * *

The room I got was, like most highborn girls´, large and spacious – but it was too dark for my taste. They were candles in every corner, but the shadows easily swallowed their light. The only light that kept me from standing in pure darkness was the daylight from the window next to the large sized bed. Bulging bags, with all my belongings in them, were supplied in the elegant mahogany wardrobe.

But the low-cut white dress, with golden flowers decorating my chest, that showed of too much skin in my opinion, hung prepared on a hook next to the mirror.

I have to wear it to the feast tonight, even though i´d much rather read in the privacy of my bedroom. I do like celebrations, that wasn´t the matter, the matter for my current behavior was that this feast meant seeing Robb Stark again. I don´t know where the sudden panicking of a confrontation came from, it was simply there, taking over all my thoughts. I could still see the boyish blue eyes staring down at me, so intense, but still so cold. Unreadable, that was the perfect description for them. They didn´t show off any kind of affection, they didn´t tell me if they liked or disliked what they saw, they were empty. Like he has not been looking at me, but through me.

Ugh. I leaned back in the chair I sat on, while Mary´s skilled hands braided my jet-black hair. Of all of Robert Baratheon´s children, I resembled him the most. My hair had his color, the typical Baratheon black. I had plentiful curves, compared to my mother. At least they were placed right, on my hips and on my chest. Still I often find myself envying her for her perfect appearance. But who didn´t? Cercei was beyond perfect, a true beauty whole Westeros sang songs about. The only thing I had from my mother were my green eyes, but even they had my father´s grey in it.

"He´s very handsome, milady" Mary said with her strongly accented voice. As much as I know she had been born somewhere far south. Her skin was dark bronze and her eyes almost as black as her hair. I didn´t know much about her past, but she had become a good friend to me in the short time i spent with her.

"Yes, I guess he is." I replied dryly. Robb Stark indeed could be described as handsome, with his curly reddish hair, his blue eyes and his firm jaw, clean shaven and tidy. The ladies on the court at home would have instantly fallen for a guy like him. Like they fell for the knight in the golden armor, also known as Jamie Lannister. But I wasn´t that kind of a girl, I didn´t fall for anyone´s looks. Call me ridiculous, but I still believe in something like inner beauty. People can look most beautiful, but be a pig in the inside. If Robb Stark´s handsomeness only referred to the looks of his _meat suit_, or if he´s a man with a beautiful soul, I didn´t figure out yet.

"I´m finished, Princess Tania" Mary remarked proudly. I lifted myself from my seat and walked across the room to the giant mirror to admire her work. My hair was braided southern style, like a half moon on top of my head, there was a crown, i´ve never seen, involved in the braid. It was golden with honey colored amber stones on it.

"I don´t remember ever getting this crown, Mary" I said, staring confused at the reflection of the headdress.

"Oh, your Uncle Renly told me to give it to you last time he visited, as a wedding gift. He said it belonged to Rhaelle Targaryen. Amber stones are very rare nowadays" My handmaiden explained.

I sighed deeply. Rhaelle Targaryen was my great-grandmother; she has also been a princess before marrying a Baratheon. My Uncle Renly inherited all her belongings, because my father and my other Uncle Stannis refused to have anything from those "_bloody" _ Targaryens. From all the Baratheons I knew, I appreciated Renly´s company the most, he was kind and a goodhearted man unlike his brothers.

I turned to face Mary, who was already waiting for my instructions. "Would you help me in my dress, please?"

* * *

Finally dressed I stood in front of the mirror. The dress I wore hugged my curves tightly and unfortunately the cut was lower than I thought, that I immediately noticed. The fabric clung the curves of her chest so invitingly, that men could easily guess what´s under it. _Why did my mother want me to wear this dress again? _I frowned.

When my gaze wandered to the reflection of my face, I looked into my own greyish green eyes. Though the innocence in my eyes has faded, I tell myself to take a second look like i´m a castaway who swears he sees land. Trouble was that I wasn´t a child anymore and in a few months there will be no innocence to be found anymore.

I put a light blue velvet cloak over my shoulders, that wasn´t meant to keep me warm, but to match my dress. It was too long for me, even though I was tall, at least a foot of material was stretched out behind me.

With Sandor, my guard, at my right I walked down to the hallway towards the Great Hall where the feast is to be held. Cheering music, rambunctious laughter of the folk, loud horrible sounding singing and women chit chatting could be clearly heard the closer we come.

When we reached the door made of oak and iron, my fingers smoothed my dress quickly before a hooked my arm with Sandor, or The Dog how the most people called him. I prayed to the seven to not stupidly stumble over my own two feet as we entered the hall. "Please don´t let me fall" I whispered under my breath.

"Never" Sandor´s rough voice replied. I smiled weakly at the man who had been my so called _"shield" _since the day of my birth, as I grew a strange friendship was built between the two of us.

As we stepped over the threshold, a few heads shot up, noticing my entrance. One of them was Robb Stark, his jaw dropped at the sight of me.

_"Maybe he will save me in the ocean of his dreams" – Love Song Requiem_

**Author´s note 2: So, that was the second chapter. It was quite longer than the last one. Again, i couldn´t thank you enough for the follows, favorites and reviews.**

**Did you like this chapter? Did you dislike it? Were you disappointed? Did you expect more? Or do you actually think it was good? Please tell me in a short Review. **

**Love, m. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Author´s note: **

** Hi guys **

**Oh Lord, thank you so so so much. You guys make me feel like a unicorn running over a never ending rainbow. **

**Chapter 3**

_"Your face saving promises_

_Whispered like prayers._

_I don´t need them" _

_– My Skin_

A shadow play formed itself in front of my eyes, as the candles´ flames got swallowed by the liquid wax. Silhouettes of the folk spinning in circles and dancing in the dim lit hall, while the musicians never once rested. They danced through hours, from song to song, their figures faded and bodies made of blood, flesh and bones turned into shadows. They became faceless, the shadows hid their identities like masks, they could be Lords and Ladies, servants, knights or even farmers. But they could not be the King, because he wasn´t far enough to turn into a shadow. Just a few tables under the one my mother, Lady Stark, Myrcella and I dined at.

He placed another kiss on the servant girl´s already swollen red lips. She was young, a bit older than me I assume. Disgust flamed up in my stomach, disgust for this girl, disgust for my father. Like a reflection, I refilled my glass with finest red wine and emptied in a short amount time, every time my eyes fell upon the King of Westeros dishonoring his Queen. I could feel her tense now and then beside me, grit her teeth or sigh shakily. I know exactly what´s going on inside of her, there´s a furious storm that´s growing and raging. It was only a matter of time until it escalated and she let it out, at least that´s what I believed in, but she never lost her temper. Stiff as stone, pushing the storm further, ignoring the growling thunders.

"Arya" a shrill voice screamed. I couldn´t help clasping my hands over my mouth to muffle my giggles as I saw the pretty red haired Stark with a bean glued to her cheek. Apparently the youngest girl in the round enjoyed her beans more on her sister´s face than in her mouth. To her defense, the food wasn´t really appetizing, considering to my still plenty filled plate.

Hearing a distinctly familiar voice laughing along the others at the Stark girl´s humiliation, my head shot up. Robb Stark was holding on a man´s shoulder for support, while he cringed laughing. His laugh was deep and somehow so melodic that it managed to drown the others. I continued to watch him, or better _stare _at him, before all of sudden his head turned directly to my table. His smile faded, I felt my frown take over my previously amused features as my hand dropped to my lap like I didn´t have the strength to hold it up anymore. I must´ve been ghostly pale, since I couldn´t feel the blood rushing into my cheeks at my very own humiliation, which normally happened in such a situation.

In his grey-blue eyes something flickered. Was it _amusement_?

He barely noticeable raised a brow at me. _Oh for the love of the Seven, woman, control yourself, _I mentally chided myself, like Septa Elisa would´ve done it, with a raised finger.

A sting of irritation ran through me, as my betrothed lifted himself from his seat. Half-heartedly I hoped that he planned on leaving with his sister and with that stop the repetitive confusion he made me feel, at least for today.

But to my horror he fixed his eyes with mine and started to take steps up the stairs to the table of the guests of honor, where I currently was seated. I was like astonished by his actions, his eyes never leaving mine, like he was making sure I wasn´t perceiving things wrongly. In truth I begged for some kind of release, begged that someone would call out my name and I had to leave, but there was no one to hear my desperate cries, no one except me.

"Milady, would you do me the great honor of dancing with me?" He murmured lowly, with huskiness in his voice that sent chills through my body.

I offered him a polite smile, which I desperately hoped wouldn´t crack. After I reassured I´m calm enough to talk, I answered: "Of course, my Lord"

A slow, but sultry song replaced the cherish drums with the smoothing sounds of a harp. The pairs all around us tiredly fell into each other's arms, after dancing all night. Thankfully the steps were much easier than in the previously played songs, not that anyone would actually notice my inability to dance to the unfamiliar northern tune. In King´s Landing the dances were known, the songs remained always the same, the pace didn´t make much difference and mostly the dances I was used to were _less contact-friendly_.

With Lord Stark´s strong arm around my waist, drawing me up against him and his fingers interlinked with mine, we swirled around among the other pairings. I allowed him to take the lead; meanwhile I concentrated on following his movements. Repeating the few steps long enough, I had it more or less under control.

With more wine than courage I dared to look up at him, expecting to meet his gaze. Instead I caught him looking over my shoulder, with his brows slightly furrowed. My stomach wriggled with disappointment, noticing his disinterest in dancing with me.

"What bothers you, my lord?" I curiously bubbled out before I could stop myself.

At my voice, he quickly looked down at me, most probably wondering why I spoke suddenly. "Nothing."

"Lord Stark, I´ve grown up with Petyr Bealish and Varys, I recognize a lie when I hear one." And instantly after these words were spoken, I regretted them. _Be sure to taste your words before you spit them out, _Septa Elisa had lessoned me wisely. _I just called my future husband a liar. These definitely aren´t the right words to build a relationship on. _

The heir of Winterfell didn´t seem to notice my embarrassment nor the offense directed to him.

"I-I just don´t like the idea of getting forced into things, things like-" He began.

"Our wedding" The words came out as a whisper, finishing his sentence.

He sighed deeply, showing of how uncomfortable he was. "Yes – I mean no, it isn´t that much about _our _Wedding, but about how – but about taking my free will. Do not get me wrong, my lady, you are most beautiful, but it´s my freedom I was worried about" He tripped on his words, with his voice coated in guilt.

I chuckled lightly as I shook my head in response.

"Am I amusing you, Lady Baratheon?" he rumbled lowly in chest.

"Indeed you are." I answered looking up at the confused look he gave me.

"You talk to me about freedom. Something I never had. I was taught to obey early, to follow a princess´ duties. To ´sit and listen´. All I ever did was for the good of others. Women are always slaves, royalty doesn´t gain you freedom. It actually puts you into a narrow cage. That´s what I'm doing, moving from one cage to another., except maybe in Casterly Rock, when my Uncles´ managed to break me free for a few hours." I explained softly.

Something odd shimmered in his boyish blue eyes, as he spoke assuring: "I won´t take your freedom"

A weak smile twisted my lips upwards. "You can not take something I don´t own"

Much to my shock he stopped moving. His hands left my body and dropped by his sides, but his eyes were still locked with mine. They were now hard again, with no trace of anything I've seen there moment´s ago. "Then I´ll give you freedom" he promised, simply like that.

My small hands placed against his muscular chest, feeling his drumming heart through the leather of his tunic. "Don´t make promises you won´t be able to keep. You know what they say: _What´s so simple in the moonlight by the morning never is" _I cited.

With that I turned my heels and stalked towards the exit, an invisible rope around my throat preventing me from breathing. _Foolish Boy. _

_"No, I don´t need them._

_I need the darkness,_

_The sweetness,_

_The sadness and _

_The weakness."_

_– My Skin_

* * *

Subconsciously I bundled a little further into my cloak as white fog escaped my nose and mouth. It was so dark, the moon and stars were being covered by dark snow heavy clouds. It was freezing cold out here; in fact I´ve never experienced such coolness before. The frost bit me through my light clothes, as thick flakes of white stick to my black hair. My feet kept dragging me away, to some place I don´t know. I was sure that I completely forgot which way I´ve come from already and where my room was. But no ten horses could force me back to this feast.

"All dwarfs are bastards in my father´s eyes" I heard a familiar voice say as I walked past.

"Uncle Tyrion" I called out, walking, almost running in his direction.

As soon as I reached my uncle, most people knew as the Imp, I was on my knees, throwing my arms around his figure, burying my face into the crook of his neck and absorbing the warmth radiating from his little body.

"Hey there, little one." He greeted, stroking over my loose hair.

I freed him out of my tight grip, standing up again with a warm smile forming on my lips.

"You´ve ruined your dress" he remarked pointing. Hysterically I looked down at me where his finger pointed at. The front and the helm of my skirt were covered in mud. _Mother isn´t going to like that._

"At least I have a reason to never wear it again, now." I mumbled under my breath, hugging my cloak around me.

For that I recieved a small smile from Tyrion.

"I´ve missed you at the arrival. Couldn´t the whores of Winterfell wait?" I teased him with a large grin on my face.

"Oh you know me, I always put the ladies first" He chuckled.

"You´re such a Gentleman, dearest uncle." I acted ridiculously ladylike, with a high-pitched voice.

He shook his head, laughing at my poor attempt. "May I escort you to the feast, Princess Tania?"

"No thank you. I´m really tired. I need some rest."

"Alright then, see you tomorrow." He winked, before he took off in the direction she came from.

I sighed shakily, blurring my view with fog. Tomorrow was the last day my family will spend in Winterfell, before they start the journey back to King´s Landing, before they leave me behind, all alone, with all these strangers.

**Author´s note: **

**So this was the third chapter. Again thank you so so much for your support. It really means a lot to me. **

**Did you like this chapter or not? Please tell me in a short review.**

**Lots of love, m.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author´s note:**

**Oh my god, THANK YOU SO MUCH. I´m actually pretty baffled by all the reviews, follows and favorites. **

**Dress in this Chapter (Remove spaces): http:**

**/weheartit**

** entry/53766479/via/stelenaaddicted**

**Chapter 4**

_"They didn´t understand it, but like so many unfortunate events in life,_

_just because you don´t understand it doesn´t mean it isn´t so."_

_– Lemony Snicket_

Sleep no longer came in that night. I had been twisting and turning under the heavy furs, that much to my dismay gave me a hard time to breathe. These blue eyes were haunting my thoughts like a hunter sprints after a deer running for it´s life. As often as I recalled the memory of exchanging words with the young handsome Lord, that often I pushed them away as if they were a disgracing meal.

My Books kept me company at night until the sun broke over the horizon and peeked out through the colorless clouds. There´s hope for the best in every single dog-eared page that jump out of my favorite Books. One sentence could prove everything you thought right, wrong. It can also change your way of thinking, your personality and your behavior. Readers live a hundred of lives before they leave this world. It happens that I lived through the duchess of Devonshire's life so many times, that she rubbed off on me.

My finger traced over the ink-written letters.

_"When she appears all eyes are turned toward her._

_She´s the subject of universal conversation. _

_And what we see her wearing tonight, I look forward to see the rest of you wearing tomorrow._

_The impress of fashion herself._

_The Duchess of Devonshire" _

I knew the words he spoke by heart now, from reading them over and over. Georgina won the hearts of her entire folk, but never reached the heart of the duke. All he ever cared for was for her to birth him an heir. I envied her strength, she managed to follow her duty even though she abhorred her husband. She did it all in the name of the love she beared for her children. And that was exactly what my mother had taught me, to only love your children. Everyone else could turn their backs on you, but your flesh and blood never would.

Sometimes I did wonder if Lord Stark would be like the Duke of Devonshire. But of course it was plausible, it was the point of every arranged marriage; he wants a son and I will give him one. _What if the same fate awaits you, _a silent voice questioned in my head. _What if you only birth daughters aswell? What will he do? _ Terror sparked to life in my abdomen.

My sweaty hands shut the book sending hint cold air in the direction of my face, which I welcomed openly. My feet struggled with the blankets and furs atop of me, freeing my heated up body. Deciding that it was late enough to wake Mary and order her to prepare a bath, I swung my legs over the edge of the large bed and steadied my feet on the rough surface of the carpet before I walked over to the door of her bedroom, knocking on the wooden door.

* * *

I sunk lower into the water of my bathing tub, followed by a facilitated sigh as my muscles relaxed. The feverishly hot water contrasting the cold Northern chill felt far better than I expected, in admiration of the newly discovered sensation my eyes closed.

The door opened, inviting the biting cold into my room. After blinking repeatedly to see through the blur, I recognized my Mother´s wavy long golden Lannister mane.

"Mother, what are you doing up so early?" I asked tiredly adding a yawn at the end.

"I couldn´t sleep well. Also I wanted to spend some time with you before leaving." She explained while crossing the room and seating herself on a chair near my tub.

In an act of childish defiance, I closed my eyes again, refusing to talk about good-byes or leaving.

"I know it´s hard"

"Oh, do you?" Rather harshly these words left my lips before I could make any effort to stop them.

"I do." She assured in an unfamiliar bitter tone.

Having quite frankly enough of my previously so enjoyable bath, I stood up and gestured to my robe. "Could you please hand me my robe?"

* * *

Mary´s hands were replaced by my Mother´s after she insisted to braid my hair like she did when I was younger. We did not speak, mostly because we couldn´t find the right words to say. Of course I could say that I will miss her, but that would be matter-of-factly. It´s just natural to dislike the absence of a beloved person, especially if that person is your mother.

"You will make a beautiful bride, it´s a shame that I won´t be here to see you, like I always wished to."

A sudden wave of desperation fell upon me and against my own will I began sobbing. My mother´s hands instantly left my hair, letting it fall down my shoulders, kneeling down next to my chair.

She cupped my cheeks, brushing tears that slipped out of my eyes away. "You have to be strong. You will make it on your own. You are my daughter. _My daughter _and neither the seven nor the old gods could prevent me from seeing you again." Her voice broke, like my heart did as she spoke.

Now, for the first time since I knew about my proposal to the heir of Winterfell, it was my mother´s turn to comfort me. With her arms around me, I felt like a fetus in a womb considering to the closeness to her. Not many tears fell, but the ones that did, landed on her dark green dress getting soaked in the fabric.

* * *

Hours passed and I knew time is soon to come when they are leaving this castle and with that me, only letting a handful of known knights and maidens stay. I was still unable to understand why exactly I had to do this. I shouldn´t be questioning my father´s decision, since he was the King of the seven Kingdoms and the King _always_ does the right thing.

Dressed in a pearl white, for a princess rather simply dress with long sleeves, I sat in silence, my mother´s hand intertwined with mine. These hands had carried me through my home, these hands supported me as I walked my first steps, these hands wiped the tears away after I fell, these hands protected me from any kind of harm and these hands will soon be out of reach. People always talk very highly of the love a mother bears for her children, but never of the love a daughter feels towards her mother. The love between a mother and a daughter is unbreakable, it exists without having to get to know someone, it´s there without asking it to be, it´s as deep as the ocean and as high as the birds could fly, it´s as natural as the river that flows into the sea.

A loud knock pushed me back to reality and out of my thoughts. "Come in" I called out to the person that has been drumming against my door. In a heartbeat the door flew open, exposing the King himself had been standing behind it.

"Father" I whispered, slightly curious why he came here and didn´t send a messanger.

"Robert, what happened?"

"Ned´s little boy, he fell off the tower." He informed rubbing his temple.

"Is he-?" I gasped.

"No. He´s alive, but not awake." He murmured under his breath.

**Author´s Note: **

**I´m sorry that there was no Robb/Tania in this chapter, but I just wanted to show you a little what kind of person she is and what kind of relationship she has to her family, especially her Mother as you noticed. **

**But most of all: WHO PUSHED BRAN? It wasn´t Cersei nor Jaime, that´s for sure. It´s an AU Story, so it could technically be anyone. **

**I promise more Robb/Tania interaction in the next chapter.**

**Did you like it or not? Tell me what you think in a short review. **

**Love you lots, m.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author´s note:**

**Again, thank you very very much for everything. You guys are AMAZING.**

**Chapter 5**

_"Be still and know that I´m with you,_

_Be still and know that I´m here."_

_– Be still by The Fray_

Brandon Stark was favored by the gods.

That´s all I could conclude after staring up at the centuries year old architecture of the tower he assumingly fell off. It was high, so that I almost believed that it scraped the sky, ripped the clouds open and let the snow fall out like in some northern tale. Easily I believed now that this wasn´t built by common people, no, this was indeed the work of giants.

The sun hung high on the colorless sky, but the shadow the tower casted didn´t let her sunshine reach merely the half of my new home. Sunshine or not, it didn´t seem to have much of an effect to the still cold air, even though I could see water that once was snow dripping from the rooftops. The streets were just as empty as a brothel for septons would probably be. It was nothing like in King´s Landing, there the alleyways were crooked and muck-filled. In the capital of the Seven Kingdoms you could barely hear your own words outside Red Keep, the air was filled with smells of different sorts, some were pleasant, some weren´t. Winterfell was different in this case as well; the only smell in the bitter cold air was the one of burning wood.

I rounded the tower with my hand outstretched, running along the cool stone wall beside me as my fingers felt it´s rough surface. I was searching for the spot the boy fell off and there it was, right above my head, about 20 feet higher the tendrils of ivy were ripped out aggressively. A scenario of a boy screaming for help, holding on a simple plant that gave in moments later and let the boy fall into death´s arms flashed through my mind.

"Bran never falls." A voice I would probably mistake as Tommen´s, if I didn´t see a small boy with dirty auburn hair standing there, ripped me out of my now horrible imagination. I barely recognized the youngest Stark boy who hid himself behind his mother´s cloak at our arrival. His dark blue eyes were framed red from crying. He sniffled rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his cotton shirt.

I bent down to his level, looking him straight into the eyes, only finding childish honesty in them. "What do you mean?" I whispered tilting my head to the side, brushing a black strain that fell into my face away.

"Bran is a good climber. He climbed up every wall here. He never falls." Wiping the snot floating out of his nose away with the fabric of his shirt, he explained.

"Have you found him?" I asked softly.

He shook his head. "No, Summer did. Then Shaggydog followed her and I followed him."

I would´ve asked him who these unknown two were, but I had another question in my mind. "Where did you find him?"

The boy walked pass me and I followed him, straightening my back again. Leaves of ivy were all over the place, where the youngest Stark brought me. I kneeled down next to the deepening in the high grass, as did the boy whose name I still didn´t know. Between the leaves, I noticed a piece of the tendrils Brandon must have pulled down with himself. Inspecting it, I saw something queer on the thicker end. Something that sent shivers down my spine. The end didn´t look like it couldn´t hold the weight of someone so it parted. No. This was a clean knife cut.

_Someone had tried to kill the boy. _A pang of shock made me shoot up to my feet again, so fast that my head began spinning.

I had to tell someone, but who? Surely I couldn´t tell the little boy whose eyes were now filled with confusion at my sudden movement.

"What´s your name?" I asked trying to sound like before again.

"Rickon" He replied, confusion still written on his face.

"Rickon" I repeated after him "could you bring me to Brandon´s chamber?"

He nodded, so I took the piece of evidence in one hand and his little hand in the other.

* * *

"Lord Stark" I called out right after I saw my father´s hand exiting the room I was led to.

The tall man turned around abruptly, facing me. "Princess Tania" he bowed lightly. He smiled, but the happiness didn´t reach his eyes. His grief had overtaken each part of his face.

My hand let go of Rickon´s as I walked towards him, letting the little boy behind. "I emergently need to talk to you" I whispered, making sure his youngest son wouldn´t hear. "Privately." I added.

Wrinkles of confusion appeared on his forehead, but he nodded unnoticeable. "Rickon, take Shaggydog and go to Sansa. The children fear him." He clearly lied.

He offered his arm and I looped it with mine as he led me to a room, no one was in.

* * *

I leaned back awkwardly in my chair, staring at my clasped hands in my lap as I let the information I delivered sink in. I mean sure, a cut branch doesn´t prove anything, but still it throws many questions in the path.

I had half expected him to throw a tantrum or to begin pacing in the room like a charged animal, but Lord Eddard Stark surprised me by being the calm soul my father had described. He was still seated vis-à-vis of me, his large hands were covering his face entirely, trying to hide his emotions from me.

After a long, deep sigh, he found his voice again: "Do you really think that someone wanted to-?" His loss of words didn´t let him finish the sentence.

"It´s not mine to judge, Lord Stark"

"But what do you think?"

"I can not think of another explanation, Milord." I honestly said, my voice barely audible.

"I should tell my Wife and Robb." He said rubbing his temple. "But you have to promise me not to tell my youngest children, it will only scare them."

"Of course, Lord Stark." I assured, lifting myself.

* * *

The Starks had a traitor in their midst and winter will be coming for him soon enough. Until then none of the north men nor I are to live without paranoia. We weren´t entirely sure if it had been a real threat, but it gave us reason enough to watch our backs. I´ve trained myself, slowly but surely through the years I spent in the Red Keep, to not let a single emotion show. _Your enemies can smell your fear, _my father used to say everytime I showed weakness. I will not let Winterfell take that from me, I am still my father´s daughter and traitor or not, no one shall know that the fear in me exists.

My gaze wandered from the in furs hidden Brandon to his oldest Brother and my husband to be. He had not said a word since his father forward the information I gave him. With his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists and a now from the blood boiling inside of him visible vein on the crook of his neck, he stared blankly at the boy, who looked way too small in this large bed, the boy who had almost been killed by someone we didn´t know.

Robb Stark seemed to notice the weight of my stare and turned to meet my eyes. There was a fire blazing in them, a fire not even the narrow sea that compassed it could delay. I have seen coldness, confusion, amusement in those greyish blue eyes, but never before met this destructive hotness. _No, I will not bow to the fire he offers me. I am a Stag, ours is the fury. _I thought to myself as I fixed my eyes on his, steadier than before.

Without a warning, he stormed towards me and I prudently took a step back. But in the last second he turned into another direction only slightly brushing my shoulder, but enough to shove me out of his way. _How dares he? _Without wasting another thought, I was at his heels, following him like his own shadow. I didn´t know where he was leading me, but he had to stop once.

Then after my legs began to ache, we reached a stable and he was stuck. "Why are you following me?" he raged whilst he turned around to face me, currently his shadow.

"Why did you run away?" I snapped back.

"I asked first" his voice boiled with anger as my blood did.

"Sure you did, but I fail to see how asking me first makes the asker anymore entitled to an immediate answer than the second asker. Equality, and at all." I snarled to keep up with his anger, even if I couldn´t understand where exactly mine came from.

"I couldn´t hold it any longer" he shouted, ramming his fist into a wooden door. The horse behind it whined in fear.

Unexpectedly, he then fell to his knees, covering his face like his father did. "I just couldn´t" he repeated, his voice trembling.

_Gods be good, he´s just a boy, _my conscious whispered. _A boy, not a lord. A boy who almost lost his brother. _

Understatement calmed me down and the storm turned into a mild rainy day. I walked over to the kneeling, now also shaking heir of Winterfell and kneeled down on the straw that managed to poke me through the fabric of my dress. My arms slid around his sides, like they would´ve done if this had been Tommen or Myrcella.

I felt his hot breathe against my sensitive skin, his hot tears running down my spine as I held him.

_He was just a boy, like I was just a girl. Nothing more, nothing less. _

"I´m sorry" He whispered, his voice muffled by my hair.

"Don´t be." I said, resting my cheek atop of his head.

_"When darkness comes upon you_

_And colors you with fear and shame,_

_Be Still and know that I´m with you"_

_– Be still by The Fray_

**Author´s note: **

**This was the fifth chapter of my story. Thank you again, for all your reviews, follows and favs, I could kiss you. **

**Good? Bad? I´ll update as soon as i get 40 Reviews. Mostly because i have to do a lot of stuff lately, so your Reviews will motivate me. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Author´s note: **

**Like a Lannister, I always pay my depts. Thank you for your kind reviews.**

**Dress in this Chapter (Remove spaces): **

**pinterest.**

**com/pin/94294185919741239/**

**Cloak in this chapter (Remove spaces): **

**Weheartit**

** entry/5785985/via/wenchoftarth**

**Chapter 6**

"_You are the wolf,_

_And I am the moon,_

_And in the endless sky_

_We are but one_

_We are alive"_

– _Wolf and I by Oh Land_

How could I let them leave me, the only people in the world I was certain I loved?

It had been one week since my mother left me with nothing but her soaked in tears in the fabric of my cloak. Winterfell thought Cersei heartless as they thought any Lannister heartless, they named them cold beasties, when in fact the Lions of Casterly Rock were loving but indeed dangerous creatures.

For me whom never experienced heartbreak before, I was unable to understand why they named it heartbreak, when I felt the aching pain in every inch of my body.

Having a broken _heart _puts you in a haze, like the snow high up the mountain peak it covered my thoughts. Tears can not mend it; it actually resembles pouring salt into a gaping wound. My last hope was time, because time seemed to be the solution to everything. _You learn with time, you learn to love, to hate. You get wise with time. Time is the key to a better life. _

As if it was on purpose, the sun melted all the snow and ice and initiated it into my heart. I felt so numb to every single thing around me, like I´ve been held in some dreaming state, walking in the waking world, but never really awake.

Through the dizziness, I spent the last few days sewing my hands bloody beside Sansa, who seemingly enjoyed my rather silent company. She was a darling to me, trying to keep up a conversation during supper, so that I didn´t have to sit alone, yet to talk to anyone else.

Robb copied my way of avoiding interaction with him; he as well only talked to his Bastard brother Jon Snow and to the real _bastard_, at least in my eyes, Theon Greyjoy. My disliking for the Ironborn I inherited from my father and he had well enough reason to declare them as untrustworthy after having to again fight in a war to get them kneeling.

Since the Lordship rested upon his shoulders, he barely ever is to be seen. Our last word exchanging, I would bet my head he didn´t wish to be seen either way. And I, I also didn´t want to discomfort him, so I stayed out of his way and out of his conversations, but I couldn´t stay out of his life, considering that we will be married in a week´s time.

One week and I will be Lady Tania Stark, no longer a tourist in a foreign world. By taking Lord Robb Stark´s family name, this world, these lands, these strangers, will be adopted by me. No longer shall I be called the Princess of Westeros, with each of the seven Kingdoms sworn to my father and with that to me. Stepping in the shoes of a Lady is like stepping into oversized shoes, it is easily to be done, with no struggling.

* * *

After forcing down oatmeal, I ghosted through the seemingly empty hallways of Winterfell, still unsure where my chamber was; I cursed my inability to orient myself. According to my father this Castle was a lot bigger than the Red Keep, he might see this in a positive way, like I have more space to rule over, unfortunately this only heightened the chance of me getting lost. As a kid I used to curl up into a ball on the floor, when I couldn´t find my way back where I came from and then magically wake up in my bed. Mostly it was Uncle Jaime who carried the sleeping me back where I belonged, sometimes servants found me and brought me to my mother and she would chide me as soon as I open my eyes, she´d tell me how worried she was, how I should not run off like that. I would always tell her I was sorry afterwards, repeating the story only days later.

That I couldn´t do here – not under these terms – I´d probably stay unfound and half frozen to death, because even though the northern chill had been beaming up, the stone floor my tired, now as well annoyed feet were slapping against, was icy cold.

_Someone is staring at me,_ I felt it almost immediately, like an arrow was piercing through me. Adrenaline, created by the wave of fear that overtook me, made my heartbeat quicken and my previously tired feet almost flew over the ground, taking me further into the labyrinth that was Winterfell. _Eyes are everywhere, _the raven which visited me in my nightmares croaked. _But who´s? _

A pull on my wrist brought my attempt to flee to an end and before I could gather enough air to scream for help, a hand covered my mouth, by that also destroyed the pang of hope I had in someone saving my life. _Was I the traitor´s next victim? I should´ve let Sandor escort me back, _I cried inside of my head.

"Shhh" a familiar voice I hadn´t heard in days hushed "It´s me, don´t scream."

His rough hand left my mouth, after I nodded. Panting, with my hand on my chest I turned to meet the deep pools of greyish blue I´ve been trying to avoid so badly.

"To the gods, Lord Stark, you scared me." I hissed between heavy breaths.

"I´m very sorry, Milady." He apologized while his hand on my shoulder straightened me back up again. "Are you alright?"

Although my heartbeat still pounded inside my ears I assured him that I´m alright, even if I almost overheard my own words.

As the shock slowly crept out of my body again, I dared to face him once more. "Why were you lurking in the shadows?" I asked curiosity coating my voice.

"I wasn´t lurking" An amused smirk lit up his face.

"Then you surely walk like a cat, I could not hear your steps"

"I am sorry for frightening you." He apologized again.

"There´s no need to apologize, Lord Stark." I said, offering him a polite smile, ready to continue my _oh so adventurous_ journey that hopefully led to my bedroom.

But his grip was around my wrist as I turned and with that he stopped me once again. "Come with me." His voice had been husky and barely audible.

"Where?" I questioned as my gaze wandered from the hand holding my wrist to it´s owner´s eyes.

The amusement returned on his features "Am I not worthy your trust, Lady Baratheon?"

"You-You haven´t proven me that you are." I mumbled.

"Then let me." He whispered, his eyes soft as they fixed on mine, making my knees weaken.

The Lord of Winterfell reached over my shoulders and gently pulled the hood of my cloak over my head, and then his hand intertwined with mine as he led me out of the labyrinth I was stuck in.

* * *

"Where are we going?" I repeatedly asked, while I half followed him, half got dragged by him out of Winterfell through the North gate.

We almost ran up a hill. Over water. Grassy and muddy water, but still it was water for the biggest part. He kept dragging the burden, I now called myself, behind him.

"So?" I asked as we reached the top of the hill, whilst my hands grabbed my sides.

Then he did the most unexpected thing he could´ve done; he lay down.

"What are you doing?" I said utterly confused by his actions.

He didn´t mind looking at me, but at the sky above my head as he said. "Lay with me."

"What?" I let out in the most unladylike tone I ever used before.

"Come." He patted at the space at his side.

"No, why should I?"

"When I was younger, I and Jon sneaked out to come up here at a night like this." He told me, still not answering any of my questions, but I admit it made me curious.

"Why?" I mumbled another question.

"There´s only one way to find out." He teased, his head turning to face me for a glimpse of a moment and aftermath returning to his former position.

"This is ridiculous" I noted, walking over to the free space he had offered me.

With a thud, I landed on the grass and took a moment before I lay down next to him.

A silent gasp escaped my lips as my eyes stared up the night sky. Millions – No, Billions of Stars reflecting the light they absorbed from the sun like little diamonds. They were dancing around a moon, like he was some god they worshipped. The plain black sky made them shine even brighter, their light lit the darkest places, killing all the shadows.

I have never seen anything like this in my life before, in Kings Landing there was too much smog to get a clear view of the night sky.

"It´s beautiful, thank you a lot my Lord" I whispered dreamingly.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed his teeth reflecting the moonshine, as the stars did. "Please, call me Robb." He whispered as if he didn´t want to disturb the peaceful silence. "I kept my promise." He reminded me.

_He did. _

A happiness I haven´t felt in years expanded like an explosion inside of me – so violent and extreme I was not sure I would survive it.

"_How many days and nights will come and go_

_While the only light you'll see is from my glow_

_There will never be a dawn that breaks the spell surrounding us_

_Til the earth dies with the sun"_

– _Wolf and I by Oh Land_

**Author´s note: **

**I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. **

**Again thank you for the reviews.**

**Will be updating at 50 reviews****, because I am really really busy and I had to cancel going out with my friends for this. **

**Lots of love, m.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author´s note: **

Thank you a lot, guys.

**Dress for this Chapter (remove spaces): **

** .**

**com/image/46175114812**

**Chapter 7**

"_There'll be no value in the strength  
Of walls that I'll have grown  
There'll be no comfort in the shade of the shadows thrown  
But I'd be yours if you'd be mine_"

– _Lover of the light by Mumford and Sons_

_You´re destined to lose everyone and everything you hold dear, _the crow croaked.

The back of my hand wiped away the tears which had silently run down my face while I was still held captive in yet another nightmare. The crow imprisoned by my side in the jail of my dreams, kept me company when night falls and I close my eyes to recover from a tiring day. It comes unexpectedly, making no effort to let a sound destroy the silence surrounding us; it sits on my shoulder, croaking words barely a whisper into my ear. Silent warnings, dangerously sweet, echoing in my head, the scent of a smithy; steel, iron mixed with salt, the smell of the ocean, like the one of Blackwater Bay, the waters that the Kings Landing flanked, prickled like acid in the inside of my nose.

I groaned, stretching my body, one hand trying to rub the awful smell out of my nose whilst the other released my body from the heavy furs atop of me that previously pressed me into the mattress. Within the furs and blankets my fingers found something unfamiliar in the oversized bed. My feet overtook the struggling with the fabrics that keep me warm at night, while I drew my hand back to me with the piece of paper between the two of my fingers. Blinking repeatedly I fought the sleep out of my eyes, realizing, right after I got a passable clear view, it was a note.

_Meet me at the stable before breakfast, R. _I read aloud the delicately written note.

_Robb._ A bulb of happiness, probably buried for years in the depths of my thoughts, bloomed, expanding through my whole body. Especially strong were the roots clutching to my chest.

I climbed out of bed, and tiptoed like in some southern dances to the washbowl, filled with room temperature water, to wash out all the tracks of the nightmare off my face. Welcoming the freshness the water offered me, I sighed before I walked to the wardrobe. Without hesitation I picked out a pale green dress, which complimented my eyes, since it had the same color. It was indeed one of my favorites to wear, long sleeved, pretty and equally simple. I did not need those fancy dresses any longer; I am out of the capitol for over a month now and will not be returning soon.

With a self-braided unfitting in Kings Landing, but proper enough for here, loose braid, I slipped into soft deer hide shoes and let the rush of excitement take me to the stables.

* * *

Reaching the stable, my eyes almost immediately searched for this comforting shade of blue in his, for the fiery Tully curls I often find myself wanting to tangle my fingers in. But there was no sign of the ice and fire I was looking for, just a disappointingly empty stable.

My feet took me further into the only wooden building of Winterfell, exposing myself to the horses that lived in there. A few heads snuck out, but the most remained in the former position they were in. There was a head, lower than others and it took me a moment to see that it was newly born. His white _fur_ with black dots rather resembled a cow´s than a horse´s. I stepped closer to the foal, reaching over to pat it.

"Quite unique, isn´t she?" A familiar voice that I´ve waited to hear said.

"Yes, she is." I murmured, my hand brushing over her head one last time, before I decided to turn. Robb was leaning against the wooden doorframe; his greyish blue eyes smiled at me as did his lips. A swift smile formed on my lips as well as I walked towards him.

"You wanted me to come here, why?" I questioned, tilting my head.

Right after the question left my lips, a stable boy entered, with a saddled horse at each side. "I want to take you somewhere." He replied.

_Horseback riding? _I surely haven´t done that in years, the last time I was ten and two, with my Uncle Renly in the woods. It´s not that I feared I forgot how to ride, but there was a little uncertainty biting it´s way into the foreground of my thoughts.

All my worries assumingly vanished, leaving a blank white page in my head, as I saw a grey bundle of fur not far enough from me, much to my despise. A wolf, higher than the foal I patted, with eyes as golden as honey, was standing to Robb´s feet, ready to protect the Lord, also ready to kill the threat I must be in his point of view.

"Grey Wind, to me" Robb commanded and the wolf obeyed. _He trained that beast, _I realized shockingly.

"There´s no need to be frightened, he would never hurt you."

I will certainly not put my trust into a direwolf, Robb could not expect that from me.

* * *

With _Grey Wind_ trotting ahead at the helm of our small, private party, we were riding up and down hills, through forests and over grazes. We were alone; the only sign of life was the chirping of the birds above our heads, the other animals fled at the sight of the large grey wolf.

The sun´s warmth and the sky´s blue made me feel at home, for the very first time since I came here. Although it will not fill the hole leaving my home digged, it was comforting to know that the same sunshine was warming the rooms of the Red Keep, bronzing the skin of my folks there.

I must´ve forgotten how tiring riding was or maybe I was just out of practice, but I couldn´t help letting out a relieved sigh when he motioned for me to stop the horse. His by practicing swordfight roughed hand helped me off my horse and led me to a ledge, which overlooks a valley and a thicket of berry bushes shielding us from unwanted glances, if they would be any. I was overwhelmed by all the colors I thought were left back in the south.

"This is…" I remembered the word I used last night. "beautiful."

It was like the edge of the world, standing up here, looking down at the crowns of hundreds – maybe thousands – of trees, with a river parting the valley in two. No, this was _our _edge, the edge of the Realm. Down there was another, pristine world, no human being ever walked on the seemingly sacred ground of this _place_ hidden under a thick blanket of leaves.

I absorbed the life beneath me with one last breath, sucking the peaceful liberty into my lungs, exhaling all my sorrows.

"So, what does the Princess of Westeros think of the North?"

I turned to meet his gaze, lower than usual. He was sitting in the knee-high grass, propped up on his elbows. Less uptight then I had been yesterday, I plumbed down, soft grass easing the impact.

"The Princess of Westeros thinks it´s wonderful, like another world." I sighed shakily before I continued. "But, Tania – Tania feels like an everlasting stranger in this for her foreign world." I whispered my voice as low as my gaze.

"That´s not what I heard the north men call you." Like a noose was around my neck, curiosity lifted my head to look at the eldest of the Stark children.

As if he saw the question I held in my eyes, he answered: "They call you the northern Sun."

"Why?" With my brows furrowed the question left my lips before my mind was able to create a description to the nickname I got.

"Because since your arrival, spring approached over night and with that for years lasting winter came to an end." He explained slowly. "The sun means hope, especially for the north."

The small smile he gave me combined with the words he told created a pinkish hue on my cheeks and a shy smile on my lips. I once again, as so often, cursed that habit internally.

"I could eat something, what about you?" He reminded me that we haven´t had breakfast yet.

Instead of my mouth, my stomach answered desperately calling for food. He chuckled at my embarrassment, meanwhile my face sunk into a darker shade of red than before.

As he took out a knife previously tucked to his belt, I sarcastically questioned: "What? Are you going to hunt us our meal, like a savage?"

"Yes, actually." He got to his feet and in less than a heartbeat; he was out of my sight.

I lay back into the mattress made of grass, single blades of it tickling my exposed skin making me giggle lightly. I hadn´t been so joyful since I was a kid running barefoot over the heated stoneground of a balcony in the Red Keep while my Septa chased me to put my shoes on.

"Here, I got something." He said, showing off his prey. A bun, with the knife puncturing it got thrown on my lap.

Pressing my plumb lips together, I had to reassure I wasn´t going to burst out in laughter before I spoke: "That´s all you got?" bundling the fabric of my dress in one hand, to make sure I don´t trip, I stood up, playfully raising an eyebrow at the now sitting Stark. "I could bet, I would do better than you as a savage. I needn´t to use any weapons."

I marched gallantly to the berry bushes, my skirt held out of the way of my feet. Picking out an unripe green berry on purpose, first fixing my eyes with his, then aiming for his mouth. He caught it, like expected with his mouth. A grimace overtook his features as he tasted the sour juice and I couldn´t help but throw my head back into triumphal laughter.

"Ha ha ha" He faked my laughing "You think that is funny?"

"I think it´s hilarious." I declared after regaining my self-control.

I tossed a ripe raspberry into my mouth, although it was still a little bitter, I didn´t let it show.

For the second time today, I plumbed down next to Robb, grasping the piece of bread he offered and ate in silence, glancing over secretly now and then. I enjoyed the silence; it gave me time to think, even though each of my thoughts revolved around him.

With the back of my hand I brushed the crumbs of bread left on my face away as I swallowed my last bite. Robb had finished his bun also, but the stillness remained.

Somewhere between sharing glances with one another, he picked up a white narcissus and carefully placed it between strains at the end of my loose plait.

"What a beautiful savage." He whispered lovingly.

With that, the roots on my heart clutched tighter.

"_Skin to tight and eyes like marbles,_

_You spin me high,_

_So watch me as I glide"_

– _Lover of the light by Mumford and Sons_

**Author´s note: **

**I apologize for not uploading like I promised, but my internet was down for a few days and all I could do is write and not upload, so I wrote a longer chapter than usual as a thank you and a sorry. **

**Game of Thrones is back tonight (screaming internally). **

**So guys, it´s my birthday this week and the best present ever would be a lot of reviews, also favorites and follows. **

**WILL BE CONTINUING AT 65 REVIEWS**

**Lots of love, Med.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author´s note:**

**It has been a long time, my old friends. No seven kingdoms could fill the hole my lack of inspiration has created. **

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**Chapter 8 **

_"But you just whisper what you said  
One last time  
I could have sworn I heard you say  
That you are mine"_

_– Be the one by The Fray_

There was something gleaming oddly in those pools of blue, a light brighter than the one above our heads, a light that victoriously damped the raven´s dangerously bitter warnings. Through the day, they watched me carefully, through the night they broke me out of the jail I was held captive in; they released me from the heavy chains around my wrist and took me to another place unknown. Somewhere where white narcissus bloom under a cloudless sky, somewhere a _wolf howls to the sun._

His laugh, as clear as bells, among roaring laughter of other lords, mostly guests that came for the upcoming wedding the next day, woke me to the sight of a milky twilight and a party disappearing through the north gate. _A tradition_, Lady Catelyn explained, _the North men only are seen worthy a wife if they could hunt her a proper meal, if they aren´t able to feed her they automatically become undignified. _The northern stayed truthful to their traditions, like their belief in the old gods, they pledged their loyalty to. Ire cavemen they were, but one was lucky to have them as friends, like my father did.

Discomfort deepened in my guts as I watched him mount towards the woods, the acknowledgement of his absence until dusk drew it even farther almost so nausea overtook me. I had spent nearly all of my time at his side, as his evermore following shadow alongside with his direwolf who still haven´t grown fond of me. His suspicious golden coins followed my every move, as his master and I strolled through the castle with my gentle fingers clinging tightly to his arm. The distrust was on reciprocity, neither of us would ever get close to one another, except for maybe ripping throats out, that I knew now.

I let Mary massage southern lavender oil into the black of my hair whilst I sink chin deep in comfortingly hot water.

* * *

Jon Snow swung the sword in a well-trained, lethal arc, cutting through the practice dummy like a hot knife through butter. His movements were fast and rough as though he tried to get rid of the frustration that rest like a burden upon his shoulders.

"Is it dead yet?" I called out after watching him for my own entertainment for a while. It might only be right to get to exchange a few words with my good-brother to be before I wed into this family.

He stirred, straightening up and sliding his sword into the sheath that lay across his back, before he turned. Pearls of sweat ran down his forehead, plastering black curls to his skin. His lips were parted sucking in deep breaths.

"Princess Baratheon" He bowed, surprised by my presence.

"Good day, my Lord Snow" I sunk in a curtsey, adding my part to the courtesy.

He refused to interact some more, seemingly beyond uncomfortable with the current situation, his eyes were set downcast as I watched him.

"I wonder" I began, seeking for his attention once again "Why you aren´t at your brother´s side, hunting in the woods?"

His dark eyes lifted from the muddy ground and I felt guilt rise within me as I recognized something I was too familiar with, _hurt._ "Lady Catelyn says it is a tradition and a _bastard_ shouldn´t be involved in any."

"Lady Catelyn is way too dramatic. No Baratheon would be involved in anything if it was her choice then." He eyed me quizzically, as I spoke.

"House Baratheon is tracing is descent from Orys Baratheon, Aegon I´s bastard brother." I answered as I received the question he nesting in the warm brown of his eyes.

"Sharing Family history, little niece?" A familiar voice behind me, I never thought I´d hear so soon again asked. I turn almost immediately as the sound of it reached my ears.

Under an untidy full black beard, he resembled more a Northman than a southern lord with; a smile crept up widening at the sight of my obvious surprise. Those blue eyes that always held honesty in them, called me welcome in his arms. I gladly accepted his invitation, almost running him over after colliding with him while my arms clung around his waist tightly as if he´d vanish when I let go.

He placed a longing kiss on my hair, one hand stroking my back whilst the other around my waist pressed me against him. "The barbaric beard suits you, uncle. Though I prefer the clean and shaven Renly." I mumbled, muffled by the leather covering his chest.

"So do I, but it has been a long ride north." He rumbled in response, chuckling some more as is tightened my grip. "I´m not going anywhere just yet, my sweet"

* * *

"Good night...Robb" I added, my lips curving up into a smile as his name rolled so easily off my tongue. The feast was held long into the night, the candles´ flames were swallowed by the shadows that lurked in the corners of the great hall. If there wasn´t roaring laughter of men so drunk they couldn´t tell the difference between water and wine, women lost in gossiping and people dancing until their feet fell numb, me amongst them, I would have referred this occasion as colorless. But slowly and surely I have grown used to the grey of my adopted home.

"I need to tell you something before tomorrow." He stuttered after I was to leave him with a door as barrier between the two of us. My back had been to him, but there was a strange quality to his voice that made me turn around.

"And what is that?" I questioned, looking up into the pools of greyish blue I had adored so much. _A man of ice he is, _I thought. But his heart, beneath the furs and leathers, was warm as the fire in Winterfell´s hearths. In the depths of the Tully blue seas, there was a flame hiding in the midst, expanding in the black hole that lead to his soul, to his mind, to his heart.

After a few lingering quite moments of inspecting my face, he whispered: "I am in love with you."

Time slowed to one heartbeat. The world became his eyes, his voice. This was not happening. Surely, it wasn´t real. No silent murmur that left his lips seemed real. I resisted the urge to close my eyes, just to open them again, to reassure this was not a spirit dream. No. No matter how unbelievable it all seemed. This was real. This was life. This was flesh and blood. Hundreds of questions bumped against my skull, demanding an answer I could not give them.

"Since when?" I barely managed to force these words out.

"Since – Since the day we met."

I exhaled a sharp breath, bowing my head so he could not see the little sad smile on my lips. "You´re a terrible liar."

"I am not lying" He defended himself from my reproach.

"Robb" My voice cracked, it sounded like a desperate plead, as if I was begging him to say he did not mean any of it. As if I tried to make him take the words he said back, to rewind the moment that just happened, so I could close the door behind me, to put some space between us. Because _love_ will mean some falling and I was afraid of heights.

"No, listen to me." He began, resting a finger under my chin, lifting my head. I placed my hands against his chest firmly, to keep the appropriate distance between us, feeling his heart beat drumming against them strong and steady –also it quickened within moments as he spoke: "I am in love with you, and I´m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of telling true things. I fell for the first smile you gave me. I fell for those spring green eyes that awaken joy in me. I fell for the laugh that wouldn´t let me rest at night. I fell for the kind of person within this beautiful frame. I fell for-"

I closed the remaining space I required before, catching his lips passionately with my own. The inner conflict about the rights and the wrongs of my actions I had been battling, now flooded to where my lips interacted with his. Force mingled with need made me grip into the fiery red hair my fingers were previously tangled in, to pull his further down to myself, only to experience his mouth to the fullest.

They say no couple could possibly share a soul, but ours together felt like _completion._ They fit together like a mosaic; two pieces that once sprang apart were now intertwined again, two individuals making something greater than themselves.

And that moment spoke more truth than anyone could put in words.

_"Be the one and only, wait for me  
Will you be the only one  
Will you be, be the one and only  
Wait for me; let me be your only one"_

_– Be the one by The Fray_

**Author´s note:**

**Good? Bad? Tell me what you think of this chapter.**

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**Lots of love, med.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author´s note: **

**You people are truly amazing. You seriously can´t imagine how long I´ve worked on this. It is a really long chapter, unlike the ones I´ve posted before, so I hope you will enjoy it and leave a review.**

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**Chapter 9 **

_"Nothing prepared me for_

_What the privilege of being_

_Yours would do."_

_– Turning Page by Sleeping at last _

Outside the trees barely audible, sultry howled my name as the wind´s intensity was filtered through the branches and their, in the darkness of the night blackened leaves. A breeze moved swiftly over left landscapes, hitting Winterfell´s strongly build walls by passing through. The blow bounded with icy cold drops, the clouds released, as they splattered against windows, watered the, from merciless sunshine dehydrated lands.

It was the night of my birth; the folk has sworn along with my father that thunder and wind in union spoke my name. As the earth quaked, lightnings were thrown upon us by the gods, the rain poured through leaking rooftops. Leaves joined dirt, flying over the earth. Kings Landing upheld massive destruction. The Red Keep held a child within it, with the first breath of life it drew, it set for a cry so loud it matched the storms rage. A true Baratheon was born as furious as any storm there is. Ever since that day, every quiet blow or growling thunder is calling out for me, and I wonder if I take the Stark name and a cloak of their colors rests on my shoulders, if I´d still hear repetitions of my name as a lullaby when the gods once again show their anger toward us unworthy.

The color of his eyes lit up the heavily clouded sky in the form of another lightning, quickly vanishing in-between mountains of immortal winter. An omen, I would´ve been told by my septa, but my eyes aren´t skilled enough to recognize the goodness or the badness in it. The gods are cruel, and mostly remorseless, their ways of communication are often misunderstood by us. I ought to pray to them, in the morrow I ought to speak a vow that bonds Robb and me until the end of our days, but if we are theirs to torment, why shall we pledge our love in front of them, what if they plan to tear us apart? An answer we will never get, we still continue traditions through the years, without a doubt.

Equally indubitable, I found myself wishing the love we shared would be, but what did I know of it? What did I know of love, when my entire family was drenched in sickening hate? I´ve been taught that love is just the absence of hate, because that is all what is stored within the castle walls of the Red Keep, centuries of hate and madness have created Kings like my father was. They ruled with a fist of material resembling the one of the throne they rested upon; a thousand of swords of enemies melted into a single piece of furniture with the use of fire, _fire_ that concluded hate. _Fire _that swallowed cities, _fire _everyone bent to. Fire was hate, and hate became the main source of power. Believers of the strength love has, had sufficed to spread it eventually. Unfortunately believers stayed believers, whilst others became Rulers.

But the pages of my knowledge have turned rapidly as my carriage held first in the foreign coolness of Winterfell. Judgmentally I had put everything I´ve seen under suspicion, fearing the same fate as my mother´s awaits me. I truly believed he´d be most likely like my very own father, heartlessly faking interest in my person. Soon, I was proven otherwise as his roughed fingers brushed tenderly over the length of my exposed arm, his lips moved passionately against mine with no intention of dishonoring me, as he tugged a loose stain of hair behind my ear, watching me intensely in the eye with such odd affection that I easily forgot where I was living… He had put warmth in ice, color in grey, light in darkness and freedom in a cage.

Have I been blinded by hate´s heat back in Kings Landing, has it truly consumed my faith?

I stared at the golden light peeking through the clouds, bidding farewell to the darkness, over the rim of my wine goblet, brooding on the confusion within my head and heart. Tiredly I bedded my head in the palm of my hand, letting out a sigh in frustration. Sleep didn´t come for me, neither did I willingly welcome it, considering the battle my mind was fighting. I _demanded_ answers, but as so often I have been told that answers aren´t to be found at the bottom of a goblet. Setting it down on the small wooden table, I sunk back into my chair, my eyes falling closed, resting in a rather unladylike position, but no one was here to care, so it matters not.

A soft knock at the door, woke me from my slumber within a brief moment of relief. I almost groaned in a childish manner, but my courtesies easily crawled from the back of my thoughts to the foreground, reminding me to always be the fine princess I was taught to.

Gathering a fistful of my oversized nightgown, I went to welcome the _damned_ person that dared to wake me at such an early hour. My delicate fingers lingered on the knob, waiting for the reassurance of my full consciousness before opening the wooden door with a shriek.

An unknown man of tall statue stood at the entrance, he was quite older than I, which the wrinkles on his face showed off easily. A recently trimmed dark beard framed a grin as his blue eyes watched me inspecting him closely.

Sandor´s presence was surely having some influence on why he did not speak, but the sound of a clearing throat lower down let me know that it wasn´t my sworn shield that kept the strangers mouth shut, but the lion imp, Tyrion Lannister.

"Uncle" I gasped in surprise, joy rising within me at his unexpected, also sudden appearance.

"Good morning sweet niece" He wished, charmingly as ever.

As immediate answer, I purposely crashed to my knees, ignoring the outrageous pain and flung my arms around his small form, hiding my face in the crook of his neck from hideous glares.

My arms lingered a while around the man whom I thought the wisest of Westeros, his hands patting my back lightly. In Casterly Rock he had a library which practically turned into his dorm. Whilst Jaime was practicing fighting with swords, lance and mace, my mother was taught to smile, sing and please as was I, his mind happened to become a weapon no sword could replace. In a bestial world as ours, it was of very high importance and strangely rare to own such a thing.

Approaching voices of two young men caught my attention, so I let go off my uncle and straightened up to my full height. They were squires I have met once or twice before, back home. One was obviously a Lannister, or close to it, his shining golden hair and emerald green eyes gave it away. The other one was also of noble birth, richly clothed with familiar thick brown curls, I could not place to a known house just now. The weight of a wooden chest in-between them, let their conversation be taken over hisses and panting. A Stag with horns of gold, eyes of emeralds and fur of silver build a lock to who only the person it got delivered to earned a key to unlock.

"Where shall we place it, my lord?" The Lannister squire asked, tiredly groaning afterwards.

Tyrion´s hand strode upwards, pointing somewhere in the inside of my room. Understatement made me light-footedly step aside to give the boys free access to my chamber.

"How comes that you are here? It is rather unexpected, but pleasant I have to admit." I asked, a smile brightening my features.

"My sister dearest heard of Robert sending Renly north for he can´t be here. She thought it inappropriate to only send one half as representative of your family, so she quickly arranged a Lannister to attend your wedding." He explained non-gallantly, dismissing the squires with a court nod as he passed by.

"Mother wanted you to come?" My voice coated in disbelief said. That earned me a low rumbled chuckle of the unknown man next to him.

"May you introduce me to your…friend?" I questioned, before my gaze wandered to the lean man with a wolfish appearance.

"Ser Bronn of the Blackwater" He introduced himself in a low voice, bowing lightly. "Princess Baratheon it is a pleasure to meet you. Although I have to disagree with you on the _friend _part, for your uncle has paid me a sack of gold to follow him around like your lapdog here." His head motioned to Sandor, whose view was strictly fixed on something afar.

"The pleasure is mine, Ser Bronn…" I trailed off, not knowing if I should take his words as an insult to my shield or as a bad joke.

My uncle, who studied me through all my days, knew immediately of my discomfort and came for my rescue. "Bronn, why don´t you go freshen up, you stink worse than a wildling I once fucked." He rudely dismissed the sellsword.

"As you wish, my lord." The Ser said cheekily, the amused grin resting on his face as he bowed to either of us and strode down the path; whistling along with the woken birds.

Awkward silence lay upon us, a few things have changed, I was not the same girl they had seen weeping for her family. I guided my uncle into my dorm, allowing him to pour himself some dornish wine they delivered for the grand occasion yet to come.

"You´ve got your old man´s liver, typical for you Baratheons. Always the drinkers." He chuckled, as the jug was left empty after filling just one goblet.

"I assume so." I mumbled, being distracted by the servants rushing through the yards and corridors, resembling ants on an anthill.

"Something´s bothering you." He stated matter-of-factly, after another longing silence leapt upon us.

"It´s just-" I stuttered unsure if I shall tell him what was on my mind. "It´s nothing."

"Tania, I´ve known you since you were a child. You may be a woman grown now, but the last time you had that face expression you hid a broken legged dog in your closet."

"Lord Padfoot" I merely smiled at the thought of the golden furred stray dog, I picked up in an alley in Kings Landing.

The Lannister emerald eyes, observed me as my fingertips brushed over the rough surface of a stone wall, before my decision to turn came to mind. I seated myself across from him, dipping my head into the palms of my hands, onyx black curls shadowing my features. The inwardly fray shook every breath I took under it´s pressure.

"Have you ever doubted all you thought was right?" I croaked between attempts of calming myself.

"Quite often. I simply then replace the false with the right and be done with it." I heard his smile through his voice.

"I was so ensured that I was strong as mother. Not some poorly naïve girl, with her mind hazed in dreams and stories of fairytales that do not exist." The tone I talked in centered in self-hatred, covered in remaining confusion.

His stool pushed backwards filling the silence with an aching sound, I felt him approach although his feet made no noise colliding with the floor underneath. The curtain of hair removed behind my ear, revealing my despair, with a small movement. I looked up from where my hands kept me in darkness, to the green of my family´s eyes.

"Tania" His fingers danced over my cheekbone, familiar softness in his touch. "When your mother was to marry King Robert, her smile was competing with the sun from dawn to dusk. She did not know of the cruelty awaiting her behind the gates of Kings Landing. _She was the poorly naïve girl_ you talked of. It took her time to gather the strength she has now. You- you arrived here with her carrying a strength like hers, destined to become stronger with each step you take."

"You really think so?"

"Yes. If I didn´t believe so, I´d flee with you this instant." He finished with a reassured smile.

I took his speech in once more; word by word my smile grew brighter returning his. "Thank you"

"You might as well want to open the presents from Kings Landing" he mumbled as he struggled to pull a chain over his head.

Afterwards his golden hair stood unruly on his head, but he seemed not to care much needing to fulfill his task. His hand, dwarfed over mine, opened, letting the chain with a key as charm fall into my palm.

I studied the sheening key of gold, whilst moving to the place the squires put the richly decorated chest. Shaken by excitement, the pace of my movements quickened, guiding the piece I´ve received into the lock, opening it. My fingers roamed over the wooden lid, reaching for each opposite side, lifting the weight with a hiss. Astonishment overtook me, paralyzing my every nerve, as a scent reached my nose.

_Home; The great hall, the great sept of baelor, the mucky overfilled alleyways, the smithy, the tourney ground, mother, father, Tommen, Myrcella, Jaime, Galen… _

I constantly allowed the memories that clung tightly to the scent to flood in, sorting each memory to the associated scent. Delight met pain halfway through, tugging my lips into a ghostly smile whilst my eyes were on the verge of tears. Homesickness crawled into the depths of my heart as the distance stayed a recent reminder of how far I´ve been from all I ever knew.

The seemingly unbearable drift of emotions was ebbing as the scents were neutralized by a fresh blow of air, an open door welcomed in.

"Uncle" I called out, when I noticed that his small form was about to exit my dorm.

His head turned, looking over his shoulder to hear my words.

"He told me he loved me." I informed, tugging a curl behind my ear shyly.

"Of course he does. He´d be a fool not to." A genuine smile formed on his lips, followed by a quick wink before the door fell shut behind him.

* * *

The preparations have been done in a blur. After Mary managed to pull me away from the immense distraction the wedding presents have been, she´d fetched me a bath, shaven my legs and other intimate body parts with a sharp blade, massaged rose oil, a present from High Garden, into my hair and on my skin, then brushed my hair and plucked my eyebrows as so often in Kings Landing.

I felt strangely molested, the lack of sleep rubbing slowly through my cool mask´s surface. The ale has kept me pretty still, although one might think drinking on your wedding day, yet before the day has truly started was rather unfortunate, but it surely tamed the nervous child within me.

Lady Catelyn emerged later, a soft smile, faltering all too often, formed on her lips as her thin white fingers replaced my handmaiden´s. Her face was painted in dark cold colors; black half-moons beneath her eyes, her lips colored violet, her cheekbones casting a shadow, the grief, the worry evident in her eyes. Her lips could smile, her teeth would show, but the darkness surrounding them would swallow the happiness.

In the past weeks, Bran had woken once, only to let the numbness lull him back to his dreams. Robb and I have visited him often after his fall, dawn came as dusk did, with not one movement of the young boy. The frustration spread evenly in Winterfell, our visits became rare nearly against will. Only the lady of the castle remained in the emptiness of his room, with not one soul around.

Her hands were deep in the black of my curls, gently braiding strain by strain into a northern plait, a few nicely contrasting narcissus blooming in the moonless night. She informed me courtly that my husband to be rode out before sun approached to get them for me, before she added them to my hair. A blush had crept up my neck, whilst I smiled as if it were a secret joke only I understood.

* * *

The green of emeralds, the green of Lannister, the green of spring clouded in Winterfell´s grey, in Stark´s grey, and the narrow sea flooded over the corners of the meadow. Soft freckles that used to dance like stars beneath them now vanished behind the mask of ice the northerners put on me.

_I already have become half a northerner, _I thought, _my bronze skin paled, my accent damped, my sensitiveness dulled in the icy blows. _

I allowed my eyes to flow over the stranger´s figure in the mirror. Firmly closed butterfly wings of shimmering material in Baratheon colors, hung over her shoulders, clasped in front by animals, a silver stag with sapphire eyes and a golden lioness with emeralds as her eyes, ramming their heads against each other. Beneath the maidencloak of black and gold, a dress of the finest imported materials from across the sea, tailored in the Westerlands, shipped to Kings Landing and once through the entire realm, just for her to wear today. Soft rose covered her chest, lowly cut, flowing into a pure white of innocence down to her ankles. Golden rimmed and just as white slippers hid her bare feet. A thick chain of gold, heavily hung around her neck, carrying a black onyx heart, decently decorating her chest. _Was I truly her, was she truly I? A girl with fear, a girl with strength. _ I quickly caught a lonely tear, like a single raindrop on my skin. _A girl of tears, a girl of smiles. _A reassuring smile, light up the darkness my face held. _A Princess of Storms End, a Lady of Winterfell._ Pride gathered within me, forcing me to stand a little taller, while the back of my hand whipped away all the previous pain by removing the strains tears left behind.

At the door stood my uncle Renly, all in black and gold, instead of my father, to escort me to my bridegroom. He would inform my parents all the details of what took place today. I didn´t wish them to know with how much struggle each smile was formed, I didn´t wish them to know of my aching heart. This was the last act, the last chapter of Princess Tania of house Baratheon, and it shall not be a girl they see, but the proud woman I always thought to be.

"Shall we?" I turned, the well-practiced smile still on my lips.

"Whenever you´re ready, my sweet." He smiled warmly in return.

I took advantage of the silence to ensure myself that I had no choice, but to let him take me into another family, another house.

_Farewell Tania Baratheon. _

* * *

Fallen leaves rustled beneath my feet, as the living did above my head. Nightly darkness swallowed Winterfell´s godswood, even if the sun arose seemingly only moments ago, it kept it a well hidden secret. An icy breeze caressed my skin, like a touch of ice, of stone, of steel, of all the north is. I instinctively bundled closer to the warmth Renly offered, clinging tighter to his side as we approached the midst of where the ceremony is to be held. Night dawned into day with each step we took; our surroundings revealed their identity, some familiar, long unseen faces upon them.

Ser Loras Tyrell, early knighted, overwhelmingly beautiful, stood proudly in gold and green, with a rose pin decorating his chest, shoulder lightly bumping into his twin-sister-by-looks´. Sweet Lady Margaery pursed her thin lips into an oddly fashioned smile, light brown ringlets framing her pretty face as they did the knight of flowers´. A blue winter rose purposely escaped her gentle hand to fall into my path; on the humus covering the godswood for centuries. As immediate response to her gesture a smile of my own shone brightly back at her.

On the bride´s side, stood among them, Tyrion, his golden hair resembling a lion´s mane, red leathers covered him fully, a Lannister sigil sewn to his front. The smile he wore held pure reassurance, no pity, no doubts. Allowing all struggles of mine to flow to my feet, to the earth as well.

The squires, with faces less reddened, stood in respect of the high lords behind them, were watching my approach with eyes wide agape. Ser Bronn had his stern eyes mingled with a never faltering amused smile, few times on me, mostly on the one he´s supposed to protect in all matters.

To my right, on the groom´s side, stood my yet to become family, in finest clothes the north might ever see, with quite few of their bannermen, awaiting me to carry their name.

As my eyes wandered with my steps, I dared to look onward the road. Beneath a weirwood tree, with leaves of form and color of blood smeared hands, it´s bole in white of bones, with a horrifying – grotesque even face, Robb waited for me, clean shaven as he had been the first time I ever saw him. Dressed in grey doublet and white breeches, a heavy cloak of Stark colors hung around his shoulders. His curls in color of young morning light hitting leaves of autumn, were trimmed shorter then I had hoped. The ice within the boyish grey blue eyes seemed to melt as they fixed with my own, his clenched jaw dropped secondly before it set into a beaming smile. An aura of light enveloped his figure fully, in that moment I believed there existed nothing more beautiful than him.

All of sudden, Renly´s firm grip on me was the only thing there is that kept me in ordinary pace. Need had gripped me tightly, the need to rest my head against his heart which he swore only beat for me, the need of letting his arms build walls around me. Rather shamelessly my eyes remained on his, ignoring our surroundings, whilst my smile competed with his in radiance. I merely noticed us stopping before the heart tree; swapping back into my body there I stood, a foolish smile on the lips, a name on the tip of my tongue, having my hands placed in his in a ritual as old as time. A soft kiss a top of my hair, and I was left alone with a septon between us and a carved-in face guiding us through our wedding vows, my uncle rejoining the Tyrells.

"You´re like sunshine in a winter morning, my lady." He complimented on my beauty poetically, so that few of the women in the audience released a sigh in envy.

"And you´re very handsome, my young wolf." I contoured, enjoying the faint color on his cheeks.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." The septon announced the beginning of the ceremony.

In a hint of a moment the cloak of House Baratheon was down to my feet, my gaze following the movement of the fabric as watching a party with my family within, disappear into the horizon. With a heavy heart, I bid the Princess I once was farewell at last.

My betrothed stood behind me, tall from pride as he swept the cloak of his protection over my shoulders, tenderly kissing my cheek, closely to my lips, while he leaned forward to fasten the clasp.

In union we outstretched our intertwined hands to the septon, giving each other a squeeze for strength. "In sight of the seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." The grey man said, whilst he bound a cloth around our hands.

"Look upon one another and say the words." He ordered.

Surprising seriousness shadowed his features as his eyes turned to meet mine.

"Father,

Smith,

Warrior,

Mother,

Maiden,

Crone,

Stranger."

"I am his and he is mine" – "I am hers and she is mine" We vowed jointly, "From this day until the end of my days."

The noise died as our vows ended, the words spoken by heart had the woods drawn into sacred silence. As though we shared a bloodstream, our souls were held together, by his calloused hand in mine, destined to last forever. In frozen air, in world of grey, in eyes of steely blue, my heart had found a home to live in, to last in, until the last beat echoed through the castle´s corridors.

Pressed together from top to toe, one of his arms winding about my waist as his brows rested against mine, he whispered of the love he beared for me in a low sultry tone. He leveled himself down, to be on same height as me, before his lips found mine, pecking them firstly, then gathering full advantage of me by deepening the kiss inappropriately in presence of others, not to mention in sight of the gods. His hands were very gentle, twisting into loose strains of my hair and holding my mouth demandingly to his. For my part, I stretched up on my toes, burying one hand in the soft thickness of his shortened curls, the other sliding down beneath his furs, gripping tight at the wool of his doublet. Drugged by the taste that his lips allowed, by his warmth, by his love, I refused to tear myself away from him, despite the breathlessness, despite our visitors.

His decision fell as the thought came to mind, he pulled away, obviously restraining a repetition, and then he smiled as I did through my pout. The godswood, the place silence called his home, erupted in cheers as well as laughter, even six wolves had howled in the midst of day in honor of a marriage.

* * *

I couldn´t recall the great hall being ever so mucky filled, nor so beautiful. Lanterns of blue, rimmed with gold, hung above our heads as stars. Murmurs said it had been a gift of the King in personal for his firstborn child, imported from south by the Imp´s party. White velvet covered stool and table, goblets of gold, silver and bronze in hands of Lords and Ladies, Winterfell´s silver cutlery and plates carried food of all sorts, the dornish wine flowed red, the music played loud and pairs moved in haste over the dancefloors.

I had been invisibly chained by him, imprisoned in his arms, enslaved against his lips, but never had chains felt so well around my wrists, neither a cage so similar to freedom nor slavery so sweet. He had fed me with his prey, a boar hunted down in the wolfswood the day before. Lord Greatjon Umber had yelled that the young _Lordling_ had a chance to bring her a stag instead, but insisted on another animal for he thought it might insult the Princess of House Baratheon to be served her own sigil. Bursting out in laughter, we had toasted to the House Baratheon, to the King and all realm.

* * *

Once the sun has set, no candle could replace it. The shadows broke in through windows, coating the guests fully in black, hiding them behind masks. White velvet was stained red by wine, senses were dulled and feet grew tired, stamping on the floor. But the darkness mattered not, because through his eyes I recognized the cloudy summer sky I called home.

With my heart against his chest, his lips pressed lightly to my neck, his feet guided mine through the moving crowd. The music, we ignored, mindlessly leaning onto each other for support, not certainly moving in the right pace. His hot breath caressed my skin; a spark that ignites fire within me was set free. Instinctively the flame rather forcefully demanded closeness to him, my hand flowed like through water in his hair until I found a place to grip at, pulling his head up to meet my eyes before I crashed my lips on his once again. His mouth tasted spicy, salty from sweat pearls of mine he kissed away before. My tongue managed what my feet were too tired for, dancing with his. Drugged repeatedly this day, my addiction wouldn´t allow me to break away first, no matter the air I needed.

Unexpectedly a yell pierced through the hall, through crowd, through skin, through bone, infecting my heart with sudden fear.

"Bed them!" Another repeated, his voice more insistent than the other´s.

It had been when few giggling women and hoarsely laughing man sprinted towards us as hunters that were after blood; I had let my seemingly invincible guard down, letting my _enemies_ sniff on my fear openly. Robb was the first to notice my crumbling walls, reacting by taking me protectively to his side, his hand soothingly stroking my upper arm.

"Enough", the Lord of Winterfell , he turned into, shouted, holding up a commanding hand to his visitors. "There will not be a bedding ceremony under my roof, none of you shall touch my bride."

Obviously outraged, the gathering crowd allowed themselves to take a step back. The Maester Luwin, whom I had often seen when Robb and I visited his fallen brother, spoke up, breaking the silence. "My lord, without the consummating of your marriage, you are not truly wedded to your Lady."

"I do understand, Maester, but it shall not happen in this way." He forbade, giving me a side glance before turning again. "My ladies, my lords, I bid you a good night." Nodding to each of them, he squeezed my side comfortingly, turning finally to leave with me.

Step taken after step, he led me to our united chambers, to our marriage bed.

* * *

A hill of golden sheen with an onyx ornament a top had been piled on the plate of a desk, with white narcissus blooming out the metals I had worn. Long waves of black hair released from golden ribbons, covered my back to the hip in darkness. The Valyrian blade I kept beneath my skirts all times, with a hold of dragon bone, in its golden sheath ran lions over the cold bite, I graciously removed, placing it onto the desk as well.

Sweet panic arose within me, having my guts twitch with each movement, well aware of grey blue eyes guarding me from behind. He had shown me mercy enough, allowing me to not take part of a rather horrifying tradition. He had me swear to be his, as he was mine before the gods, but as I was told the vows were sealed by blood on a maiden´s thigh, and _this _not even him could spare me from.

"Thank you." I whispered still, to the form of Robb in the viewing glass. I felt a coat of snow, parting us in-between the words I said, as though I was not familiar with his presence.

"You needn´t to thank me." Discomfort guided his voice low, making him appear as nervous as I.

Silence leapt in form of a rope around our throats, giving me the opportunity to swallow some of my pride, whilst my hands undressed me of details added to my appearance.

"I did it only for the fear I had never seen you having, it wasn´t the smile or the cold mask you usually wore in public. I couldn´t quite react otherwise for I have never thought you own this emotion. Tania -" He explained his actions after a while.

"It was just – I´ve been overreacting. I´m not in need of your pity, Robb." I cut in sharply; ripping his sentence off halfway through, with a tone cool as a sword´s bite.

"Do not do _that. _Do not close up to me, I beg you. I had no intention of insulting you; by all means it had not even been my point." He replied defensively, "What did bother me was that it was me you were afraid of. It was me you looked upon."

"It wasn´t you, I feared. It could never be you." I decided to let the final part of today´s ceremony begin, turning to him, tugging on laces that kept my dress clinging to my flesh.

My heart thundered underneath, but there the frequency of beats remained, as I forbid it to reach the surface. Painfully I bit down on the lower of my lips, to contain the ringing emotions my eyes gave away, slowly peeling off the wedding dress I wore and the white smallclothes under, letting them fall to my feet. _A womanly body holds more power than a crown, _my mother once lessoned me, _do never slip out of it, do never let it be called his, never hide it, wear your skin with pride, only then you shall suffice using it, my sweet._ Against the will of shame, against the will to cover myself from his lusting, also still soft eyes, I reached for his as I had many times that day.

"You´re gentle" I told him, placing his calloused hand on one side of my hip, "You´re warm" I went on, putting the other on the opposite side, "You´re full of love, you´re goodhearted, you´re kind." I trailed off, looking down into the admiration lurking in the pools of blue, my own hand cupping his cheek.

His thumbs caressed my sides, drawing circles on my sensitive skin. Over my exposed skin, his eyes did wander once or twice, but although the temptation of my current state has been distracting, he always easily found back to the doors of my soul, draining me from the cold exterior, from the cold princess of the throne of iron, to Tania, whom I really was beneath façade and act.

"I would never hurt you." He whispered as in prayer, seemingly finding the now familiar fear in my inside.

"I know." Nodding softly, convinced by his words, my lips tugged up into a smile.

"I love you" His tone was coated in queer desperation as though I had been unable to understand how truly he meant it, "_I love you." _

"As I love you." I replied with all courage I could gather, and I meant it. I did.

* * *

_Light of my life_

_Fire of my loins_

_Sun of my home_

_Tania_

_Tania_

_Tania_

His murmurs damped against my skin, warmth radiating from the spot where his lips trailed down my collarbone, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It had felt so good, so impossibly good, that I´d have him stay there for all eternity. His body sunk into mine, the tears shed vanished between those worshipping lips, flames of candles reflected in the sea of his hungry eyes, my fingers enclosed around single curls, afterwards dug into the flesh of his back, while his danced tenderly over my hips, breasts, thighs.

For others our fate was sealed with wax of blood on a previously blankly white sheet that night, for us it was sealed with three words and eight letters.

_"Your love is my turning page,_

_Where only the sweetest words remain._

_Every kiss is a cursive line,_

_Every touch is a redefining phrase.  
I surrender who I've been for who you are,_

_For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart._

_If I had only felt how it feels to be yours,_

_Well, I would have known what I've been living for all along._

_What I've been living for."_

_– Turning Page from Sleeping at last_

**Author´s note: **

**It took me a month to write this, I´ve been through lack of inspiration, lack of motivation and a lot of crying for what has happened on the show. **

**I hope you enjoyed the sweet things I gave you in the last nine chapters, because from now on shit will go downhill. **

**I´m so excited to write darker scenes, to write of pain, of loss and of all the things included.**

**Remember, your REVIEWS remind me of writing and most importantly of updating. Also they are motivating and encouraging.**

**SO REVIEW!**

**Lots of love, Med.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Long time, long time...**

**I´m dedicating this chapter to ANewLight & hungrypenguin for motivating me. I hope I don´t disappoint you.**

**Oh and yeah so I started watching The Borgias and you should totally watch it and Galen is inspired by Cesare because i spend all my time drooling over him. The scene is also inspired and similar to the first episode. (You should totally watch the borgias)**

**So fyi, the first parts are a dream sequence. **

**Chapter 10**

_"I never believed you, I only wanted to." – For Blue Skies by Strays don´t sleep_

_"Promise me, Jaime, promise me you will protect him always! Swear it to me!"_

_"I promise." He sealed his vow with wax of undeniable crimson of pure assurance._

* * *

_In hearth´s heart, beneath crown of gold; horns of stag, beneath throne of iron cold as winter, beneath keep of stone red from blood, no flower white in innocence would raise from ashes black. Beauty grew extinct in underneath the world of jewels, welcoming guests such as death to consume the long lost grave, by light of sun and moon and stars. In devil´s streets, sin had found home to last. Trade of soul and flesh upon, for simple coin, for hours of enjoyment for only those who´d down from sacred paradise above to the mucky pits of hell, in the city of gods and monsters, the capital. _

_A gold dragon reflected the sun above in blinding intensity, its engravings shadowed differently as I flipped them between two pale fingers, before placing it in a firm movement into a beggars outstretched, awaiting hand. Selvya the blind she had been known as, with dirt mingled with a layer of sweat plastering the straight golden strays of hair to her round face, freckles dancing like stars around the pale moons of her iris. Whispers in secrecy told she for her blindness unable to see the present, saw the future of those her hand touched through coin._

_Her delicate fingers, like bones of bronze, grazed swiftly over my palm as she enveloped the gold she had gained. "Princess Baratheon," she, in whisper, acknowledged my presence, bowing her head in ungraceful manner of the low folks. _

_"How did you know?" I wandered in hasty movements; fastening the silk of bloodlike crimson about my head, to drape my features in shadows, fearing instant recognition of poisonous snakes coated in skin of rotten flesh. _

_"It is not only eyes that see, your highness." Her explanation rung in whispers low, crawling from the depths of her flat chest._

_"Do tell then, Selvya, is it true what they rumor of you?" _

_"I suppose you know already, your highness."_

_"Very well then," I huffed, my voice trembling in disbelief, "What of the path I shall walk upon?" _

_She remained still, alike the gods to our prayers, drowning into queer concentration, as a mask of ice´s solace froze to stone her previously in light curtained face. "I see shadows, m´lady. Shadows guiding souls into madness, a darkness that will swallow the dawn, rivers of blood overflowing strong built city walls, tears of red crimson painting fields of battle, a child stolen from mother´s cold embrace with eyes plain in unforgiving death, your heart; blackened, parted by two men. One close to you, too close. I see iron resting upon waves of black beauty. A war of greatness never known, covering Westeros in armor and corpse. Death embracing old and young…and stillness shall come with the wailing woman." She spoke through voice she did not own, so it seemed. Harshly, words of damnation bit through her beauty, eating the very last of it as the sound leaving her lips grew unnatural._

_A shiver, contrasting the heat wiping us; drew pearls of sweat out of bodies instead of blood, running down the length of my spine as her warnings were written in ink black into my mind. "How – how do you know?" I stuttered in inability of finding words of use, whilst the back of my hand cleaned my forehead from the uncomforting wetness. _

_"A raven told me."_

_"Dark wings, dark words… Um, thank you, I guess."_

_A smile dawned in the darkness of her mask, appreciating my thanks. "Oh, and your brother is to be found at the second window right of the door." She informed, soon as the question hammered against my skull. _

_"Thank you," I repeated, before I allowed a nod of her head guide me to the palace of lust, the center of sin. _

_The doors were invitingly flung open as the legs of the women inside, no doubt. Tyros, stood, arms crossed on his chest, giving away my brother´s destination, for he had been his constant shadow for over a year then. He was grinning from ear to ear as he noticed my cat-like approach, his scarred face made even uglier by joy. The smile tasted bitter sweet on my lips; both, he and I knew of my intentions. _

_My heated feet silently lead me along the wall of glassless windows, to the second, where Selvya promised he´d be. The room smelled of sex, sweet and sour._

_ In the golden light of the afternoon his body looked as tender as it was strong: the sheen of sweat along the muscles of the upper torso, the scattering of hair around his nipples, the taut stomach and the vulnerable hollow inside the hip as it dips down towards the groin and his leathered breeches. It has not only been the athletic beauty that forced ladies at court to swoon in his presence, it is the very way he held himself, aware and unaware, proudly than any illegitimate child there ever was. Galen´s eyes were cast downwards, the mane of pitch black curls pulling a curtain over his face, while his hands worked on the laces._

_From somewhere in the gloom came a cooing noise; something willing and lovely, beginning to wake. The sweet pigeon coo repeated itself momentary, catching my attention. In the corner of the room the gloom has lifted to show a rather worn out bed, a tumble of covers and a glimpse of rising flesh. "Someone is watching, my lord," Her serene like voice sang, being followed by a silvery laugh, like a small wave breaking on to a sandy beach. _

_A girlish giggle vibrated against my palm as his eyes darted towards me, instantly grabbing his white shirt that undoubtedly spent some time on the creaking marble floor, to pull on. "Tania!" he growled into an exhale._

_Sensing his anger, I took my rapid leave out the river gate, rather known as mud gate by the common, hearing his feet ram into the tracks I laid. The Harbor rushed wildly at my left, my breaths matching it´s rage as my feet grew putty underneath the heavy red silken skirts. Half in intention of masking from recognition, half in disgust of the awful smell swinging through heat, I covered: chin to eyes as if I wore a veil, while I paced amidst the fish market, guiding my brother, who was steadily at my heels, to the elm. _

_Hesitation astonished my bones to the mark as I marveled at the sight before me: the elm stood tall in age, still very much alive, half drowned into the river, her branches caressing cool waves as the seed, similar to rose petals drained of color, danced with the howling wind, catching in my hair. _

_A Snowstorm in summer winds._

_All of sudden it was I who flew as the ghosts of a pack howled in union; for large hands had caught me, having my skirt flutter like wings of nightingales in nightly summer breeze. _

_"A punishment for spying," he hissed into the gleaming darkness of my curls, before his fingertips began tickling my sides; turning squeals into ringing laughter. _

_"Stop, stop, stop, please," I begged as my knees gave out and he sunk me, beneath him, into the meadow; dotted with piercing yellow dandelions. His low rumbled chuckle joined my pleads and laughter, his shoulder-long ringlets framed his handsome features, meanwhile he pressed me into the green with most his weight. _

_"Are you going to marry that Lady?" I asked sweetly, apparently too pure to imagine of his affair, smiling up at him in feigned innocence. _

_"No, sis, you know I won´t marry." He responded in his usual, even tone; one he used normally with father, one icy cold, hiding blazing fire. Nudging his nose against mine, he smiled warmly as he only did with me around, before afterwards settling at my side, seeking comfort in soft green._

_"Oh, but you must. Septa Elisa said now that I have flowered, Papa will select suitors for me to choose." I blurted out, watching the summer snow fall featherlike on all under the large tree. _

_"You are but only fourteen, my love," He insisted on his argument, leaving no place to think of other possibilities. _

_"When will I marry then?" I demanded, pouting childishly. _

_Galen´s calloused hand; rough like surface of rocks scraping clouds, caught hold of my jaw, turning my head with all tenderness it knew, forcing me to look into his eyes; eyes of the color of summer spiced wine flecked with gold at the rims. "Never if I can help it," He whispered in promise, but his voice ghosted in prayer. _

_Silence reigned, only warmth spread through wind, whistling. Our chests were heaving synchronously, breathing, stealing air from one another, as his thumb drew patterned circles on my rosy cheek. _

_Why is it only a hand soaped with blood that balms my soul? I instinctively leaned into his touch, sighing. _

_"Can I ask you for something, brother?" _

_"Sun, stars, moon – Ask and they are yours, sis." His hand now held mine to his by paid lips softened mouth, placing suckling kisses to my knuckles, murmuring against them. _

_"I´d ask you to marry me, for I shall never love another husband as I love you, Galen." I admitted silently, my eyes wandering over my arm to where his lips touched my skin._

_"As you wish," he answered as his lips tugged into a crooked smile, his crooked smile, "We could run away, change our names perhaps, and live out our days in some small fishing village by the coast, where no one could guess who we once were."_

_"Wouldn´t you miss home, Galen?" I questioned, the smile, beaming in foreign hope, blackened by sadness. _

_"You," he began, his kisses growing cold on in sunlight glowing skin as his adoring lips left my hand, lacing his fingers with mine, before placing them atop his chest, "my love, are my home. You are the only thing that keeps this heart beating away in its cage." He ended his confession in emotion I couldn´t quite fathom, the haze of silence taking life and sense from each word to say._

* * *

_Dawn is a pale bruise rising in the night sky when, from inside the keep, a window is flung open and a face appears, its features distorted by the firelight thrown up from the torches beneath. Down below, the guards to keep peace have fallen asleep next to rats and straying dogs. But the wake was fast enough as the voice rings out: "THE KING IS DEAD!" _

_A bird of feathers black in death, nested upon my shoulder, croaking loudly above the cries of the folk._

* * *

The nightly blackness ebbed as sunshine flooded the shores of the sky above, stars fell in battle against sheen of golden light, fire´s ghosts burning swiftly over my skin in gentle caress. My heart fought wildly against its cage of bone, like innocent prisoner demanding freedom for he had begun no crime, like lion held in gold; a dishonor for such graceful majesty. It felt heavy of grief, stone and iron and ice armored it, but never secured safety. They are only dreams; of past and _present and future, _my inner voice insisted.

Another´s arms, now felt like snakes about me, until I sensed their owner. But I lusted my brother´s touch, his arms, his odor and _oh _his handsome smile that rarely peeked out from under his cold exterior. I craved for every wake beside him as a child and even now, I craved for the heat filling up the room with gold not to touch, but to breathe, each morning and I craved for his kiss to my brow before he closed the door and left me with my pillows wearing his scent. _I craved. And I missed. I missed him. _

_Another´s _arms_, _but this has been Robb, _my Robb, _and his touch is warm and soft as fresh snow melting onto my skin. So I opened my eyes to the blazing sun, tugging along the corners of my lips into a blissful smile.

"Good morning, Lady Stark." His sleepy voice greeted, a yawn became the full stop of his sentence.

I stiffened at his call, overplaying it by stretching myself up to him. "Do not call me that." I whispered as my lips brushed against the shell of his ear.

He let out a short laugh, having it rumble against my fingertips before his response came: "And what shall I call you then?"

I brought my lips to the shadow of his ear, kissing it feather lightly, refraining from laughing myself as I began with my list: "Tania, for everyday. My love, in public. Light of my days, when we find ourselves alone. Goddess divine, when you take me to bed. And my sun, only very special occasions."

"And when might I call you ´Lady Stark´?" He questioned, after grinning wolfishly at my suggestions.

With all strength I could gather, I heaved myself atop of him like upon a saddle, grinning down at him widely. "Only when you are perfectly and utterly happy." I stated, leaning down for a chaste kiss.

His fingers drowned deeply into black waves, drawing me further down toward the heat of his flesh, having my breasts press lightly to his chest, whilst exposing my throat by the force of his hold on my hair. My own hands roamed over the parts left unoccupied by my body, feeling muscles flex underneath my tips.

Kisses alike warm puffs of air against faded bronze skin, transformed into gentle bites along my neckline, to suckles on my throbbing pulse just beneath my ear. "Lady Stark," he interrupted, in-between, repeatedly, having me moan through delighted smiles.

Knocks erupted like thunder against the wooden door, instinctively compelling me to return to my bedside, while the shame I covered rapidly beneath covers, colored my cheeks in a bright pinkish hue.

Not without releasing a groan in annoyance, my freshly baked husband called out for the interrupter. Blows of wind send along with them my handmaiden, Mary, into our now joined chambers.

"Pardon my presence," she apologized quickly dipping her head at the sight before her, "My Lord. Your Highness." She curtsied to each, averting her gaze immediately from Robb´s only halfway covered body, searching for my eyes.

With a sigh, I let the linen, I desperately clutched to, fall to my waist, feeling ease in her familiarity. "You still address me as your princess?" I allowed myself a teasing question to leave my lips, pursing them up afterwards.

"I trust my knowledge so far to say as I´ve been taught: ´A Princess always remains a Princess, unless of course she becomes a queen´." She answered, watching her fingers kneading one another.

Her obvious discomfort made me swallow the prepared remark, demanding instead: "Very well. - Do tell me the reason you are here then. I most certainly don´t believe you came this early to chat."

"A message of high importance arrived this morning, your Highness, Maester Luwin requires an instant audience with the freshly wedded pair. He is awaiting your invitation from outside." The petite servant blurted out, almost all in one sentence.

I stumbled ungracefully out of the bed, leaving Robb by himself, though his eyes still scraped my back intensely.

Reaching the looking glass, my hands foamed over my hair, fixing what could be fixed as I noticed the dried blood on my thighs. Firstly I attempted to rub it off with the palm of my hand, but after failing miserably to remove it all at once, I decided to bathe later.

"Quickly then, hand me my robe and send the Maester in." I ordered, and after another curtsey she obeyed, almost running through the room.

Mary helped me into the silk of white that ought to cover me from glances past the neckline, and set off to open the door for Winterfell´s Maester.

The elder man was of calm nature and therefore a rather soothing replacement for my nervous handmaiden, whom had vanished to take care of other duties.

Without hesitation he pulled a roll of parchment from his grey robe, widening it by using his hands.

"My Lord," he greeted Robb, then turned to me and added the usual, "My Lady."

"Maester Luwin! May I offer you a cup of wine?" I asked as I moved to the table the jug rested upon.

"You are most gracious my Lady, but I have to refuse." His voice directed at _me_ carried some unknown barrier, I managed to sense.

So I poured a cup full for me instead, nipping at the liquor several times before turning, expectantly awaiting the man´s next words.

"Maester Luwin," Robb began mildly, „Who sent the raven?"

Luwin swallowed a lump, so it seemed, fixing his saddened grey eyes on me, not the asker. "The letter came from Kings Landing, my Lord… The King is dead."

And the cup fell.

And momently it rained blood upon a field of silken snow, like in a dream I once had.

**A/N: **

**So ehm.. Hi guys. **

**First of all thank you for reading.**

**I´m not really sure about this chapter (or this Story even).**

**If you haven´t noticed, I´m not from an english speaking country, so I easily confuse shit. And I really don´t want to disappoint you, but I´m way too insecure with my writing. So idek how to finish this fanfic. **

**Just wanted to let that out. **

**Big thanks to those who reviewed. **

**Lots of love, Med.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_"When you were standing in the wake of devastation_  
_When you were waiting on the edge of the unknown_  
_And with the cataclysm raining down_  
_Inside's crying "Save me now""_

_- Iridescent by Linkin Park_

_Luwin swallowed a lump, so it seemed, fixing his saddened grey eyes on me, not the asker. "The letter came from Kings Landing, my Lord… The King is dead." _

The red rain darkened to a shade nearly black, connecting their spots to the seven pointed star of the southern gods, before whisking my vision with shadow spirits. The pulling force was unbearable; shouts from afar became only whispers in numbness of night.

* * *

_A white flame of candle, shone amongst others of its kind, had been held by my hand as steps of two tired feet echoed against marbled floors. Jon Arryn´s figure laid with eyes of stone, cold in death, on a pedestal high to Stranger´s feet. A veil on incense weighted the air surrounding the smell of rotting corpse. _

_The light I placed to Stranger´s feet, whose statue was neither man nor woman, neither of human race nor animal´s. On knees, I bowed to the face of death, pressing moonlit pale hands together, releasing a prayer in whisper for the soul of whom had been more father to me than my own. _

_I finished my wish for the face of duality to open heaven´s gates to a man such a Jon by time the large doors opened with loud shrieks. I did not tense nor did I react, for I knew that even in a night as such my constant shadow would remain. _

_"Sister," He hissed in relief at the sight of a woman clothed in grief. _

_ My brother, this man, had been swathed in black as was I, but his was not a sign of mourning. Galen Baratheon mourns nothing and no one. His colors are a reminder to those who mourn still for strangers whose blood he spilled. _

_I averted my eyes from his in loathing, placing myself upon the first seat within my reach, my aching heart drawing me into nausea. Pearls of tears slid down porcelain skin as I watched the lights flicker, illuminating the corpse memories clung so tightly to. _

_He approached me slowly, as if I was a dangerous prey he planned on hunting down, but soon as he gazed upon the distance in my eyes his arrival came faster. Galen placed himself to my right, as he had always done, and laid a protective arm around my shoulders, offering his solace. _

_Cringing at the warm contact of who had killed in cold blood only recently, I shook off his embrace, much to his dismay. He was unfamiliar to rejection, especially mine, but I would not welcome his pity. No, not now. Not his. _

_"You did this." I accused him, my voice hoarse in anger._

_"I-" He began, but immediately I sensed his lie, so I interrupted. _

_"You cannot hide things from me." My face turned to his, the brown of his eyes now swallowed in black. "I see it in your eyes, brother." Whispering lifelessly, I glared onto the dancing lights again. _

_Shouldering the heavy burden of remorse, his head gave in and dropped into his bloodstained palms. "How did you find out?"_

_"Remember the night Selvya has been murdered by these thieves?" I countered with another question. He nodded. "I dreamed of it and they had found her cold, in a puddle of her own blood. I- I dreamed of Jon also and you came into vision, dropping poison into his wine. How could you?" My tone pitched higher as words crumbled to dust, a whisper in the desert._

_"I had to do it. For the good of our family." He plainly stated, unnaturally cool towards me._

_"For the good of our family?" I repeated in disbelief. "You don´t consider anyone as your family but me! How does his murder bring profit to the two of us?" _

_"Then I´ve done it for your family!" He corrected out of breath. _

_"You do not care for Myrcella and Tommen. You hate my mother and father also. So do not tell me you did this for me. It is a weight I could not carry." _

_"It wasn´t my desire to end his life either. But it must´ve been done." _

_"You talk of it as if it was your duty! You owed Jon Arryn everything. He made father accept you, legitimate you even. He would´ve carved a King out of you, if it wasn´t for Tommen. The man was more of a father to the both of us than the drunken fool ever was." I had raised my voice at him, spitting my venom, whilst tears of red anger blurred my view._

_The echoes died in the Sept of Bealor, leaving us in the stillness of a night. My jaw was clenched as I brought my breathing under control, removing the trails of my desperation. _

_Never would I have believed he would dare to fulfill such a gruesome task, never would I have believed there had been a plausible reason to fear my brother._

_"How am I to love a man, when he brings me such misery?" I whispered barely audible, but still he heard. _

_Unfortunately he had come close – too close – to a broken heart, for he felt now the splitters dig into his flesh. A heart for a heart, is his ache supposed to tame mine? _

_"Do not say that. Not ever again." His voice was weary, as though he had aged about ten years, with eyes that saw too much and ears that heard too much, but still it was coated in a thin layer of ice. "I could never bear the thought of you hating me, for you are the only light in this darkness I live in. If you were gone, I´d – I´d die."_

_I´d die…_

_The thought echoed through my head as the only clear thing in this mess. It broke through me like a ray of light breaking up the shadows of my mourning soul. I didn´t move though, I didn´t want to risk the delicate ground, because I knew it wasn´t stable. How could it be when a dead man, I´ve held so dearly to my heart and his killer´s hands now encircled my wrist, to hold mine to his jaw? How could a touch of his hand draped in poison still become balm to me?_

_His lips pressed onto my brow, down to my neck, desperate for me to respond him, to give him my forgiveness. Unable to help my body reacting, I leaned eagerly into his touch, pushing myself further toward him. _

_I raised my hand to his hair, holding him in place. The tip of my fingers to his forehead, I drew the seven-pointed star to his skin, whispering in companion: "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I hereby grant you my forgiveness brother and pray to the seven they might offer you the same mercy." _

_His hand circled my neck, before it caught grip in the back of my head, forcing me nearer to him. "I love you," he claimed, his hot breath tingling on the surface of my lips. _

_"You shall never be free of me, brother." Then my lips inched to his, and kissed him chastely. _

_But this doomed love was blind, and deaf, and dumb._

* * *

Light poured down on me as my consciousness built up. Auburn hair seemed to move in same motion like flames, above deep with concern filled blue pools. Wrinkles deformed his face while his lips mouthed my name, but the voice was but merely a whisper. An ache centered at the back of my head pounded like a second heart in my ears, my lids flickering open and closed to sharpen my vision, as my thoughts and memories puzzled pieces together.

"Tania!" A shout broke through the surface of the numbness, like a lightning through a roof.

"Robb" I choked out, helplessly gasping for air.

"Shhhh, it´s okay. Calm down." He ordered, caressing my cheek soothingly. He took my hand into his and squeezed lightly, to stop me from trembling.

"My head," I barely managed to say, shutting my eyes to ease the pain.

"I know. You hit it pretty bad when you fell, my love." He scooped me up in his arms, only to lay me down atop of him. I rested my head on his chest, black waves cascading over his milky skin, whilst he drew lazy circles on my bare shoulder.

"How?" I questioned, not making any effort to ask in a sentence.

"How what?" He asked, confused by my interruption of the silence.

I sighed, opening my eyes once more, gazing up at him. "How did he die?"

His arms snaked about me, pulling me closer into the towers he built, as if he tried to protect me from all evil. "He – he was murdered." He stuttered out, propping his chin atop of my head.

"By who?"

"As much as I know, by one of his companions for the night." _Guttered by whores. Of course. _I laughed bitterly, _poor fool; he won his throne for a corpse and lost it in his very own bed._

"What happened to the whores?" I said, not even attempting to make it sound less sour.

"The new King sentenced them to death, he had them hanged."

"Tommen?"

"No – No, my love. Your uncle, Stannis, declared himself as King Robert´s rightful heir."

_No. _I shot up in sitting position, gazing at Robb with wide eyes, while petite stars danced in front of me. "WHAT?" I shrieked loudly, pure shock stirring within me.

A dark shadow, colored his eyes to dark waves in a storm. "He´s summoned me to Kings Landing, to swear fealty to him. He´s accused my father of treason, for revolting against the crown."

"What?" I repeated; feeling like the air was knocked out of my lungs.

His jaw clenched, as a storm brew behind the windows of his eyes, his pulse had become a thunder, and his anger descended a dark cloud above his troubled soul. But there peeked something up from behind, some emotion I could not quite fathom. _Fear? Was it that?_

"Robb, what aren´t you telling me?"

He stiffened, his mouth opened to say something, but closed again at loss of words.

"Robb?" I said in a more demanding tone than before, fear now injected into my veins, sending cold shivers down my spine.

"Your Mother-" He began, but the words died within his mouth.

"What happened to her, Robb?" I shouted almost, at the mention of her.

"She and your siblings were imprisoned as well, for refusing to kneel and greater still unknown acts of treason." He stuttered, gripping onto my hand tightly.

I freed myself from his grip, as though he was holding it into the flames. "This cannot be! Stannis has no right to the crown, he never had!"

Stumbling out of bed, the world began to quake. "He cannot do this!" I screamed madly, pacing back and forth on unsteady feet.

Robb came up behind me and encircled my waist, holding me in place. My knees buckled shortly after, the pressure multiplying the ache within my head, I dug my fingers into his forearm to release some of it. He did not react to it or maybe he didn´t feel it, I couldn´t tell just then. I had my nails scraping his skin until my fingers felt utterly numb as did my whole body.

"I will have obey the royal command," He stated. "I will ride to Kings Landing, but not alone." He whispered into my ear, his voice suddenly cold and distant.

A wave of disappointment and curiosity crushed over me; firstly I ensured I stood steady on my feet before turning in his embrace to meet his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I ordered Measter Luwin to call the Banners. We shall see what their word is worth then."

"War." I blurted out meekly, fear damming up inside of me.

My weary eyes seeking for his, I found we had the very same thing in common. And instead of answering, instead of putting it into words, he just nodded stiffly.

I instinctively flung my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest as he responded by pulling me closer to him, stroking my hair soothingly, like my mother used to.

And I held onto him, like to my dear life and inwardly prayed that Jamie had kept his promise of protecting my Brother.

_"Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?_  
_You build up hope, but failure's all you've known."_

_- Iridescent by Linkin Park_

**A/N: **

**So there was the 11th Chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. **

**This fanfic has reached 195 Followers! I´M COMPLETLY OVERWHELMED. Thank you for your support, you sexy people.**

**Will be continuing at 120 Reviews**

**Pinky promise. I´ll try to update more regulary now.**

**Tons of love, Med. **


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

It took almost four months for the army to assemble, four months during which ravens flew back and forth to Casterlyrock and Riverrun almost daily, during which an endless stream of men gathered in Winterfell. The halls sang with the clanking of steel, and Mikken's forge was never silent.

A single raven had come from Kings Landing, carrying a declaration of war written in Stannis' elegant handwriting; threatening to take the Northmen's lands and their titles, along with their heads if they refuse to obey his command.

Robb was out of reach from dawn to dusk, brooding over various maps of the seven Kingdoms, moving figures like in a game of chess over the lands, in company of the Lords. Out of the boy, became a man in a blink, dark colored half-moons underneath the worry swathed in blue of his eyes, he's grown lean, the fear disturbing his appetite gravely. Of all this anger, I feared that the stream of light in his iris would fade into blackness; his boyish smile had already straightened into a thin emotionless line, his face seemed long out of his actual age. _How long until this war wrecks him, when it has not even begun?_

On my part; apart the constant fear, my days were preoccupied with the duties of the new Lady of Winterfell, holding the household intact with Maester Luwin at my left, Lady Catelyn at my right as most helpful advisors.

The née Tully seemed more at ease after young Brandon had woken from his slumber, although his legs were unusable. Her face gained color once more, was rounder even, but still the motherly worry deepened the wrinkles, deforming her youthful beauty.

Possibility of peace had grown instinct the day chains of iron encircled the wrists of Stark and Lannister.

Doubtlessly, the North will march.

* * *

I as the passed King's eldest daughter wore black, for black was grief's color, and it shows the milk of my flesh to its best advantage. Although the ache in my chest was not reserved for the drunken coward's cold corpse, it was ripped in halves by war with Robb within and Galen's unsure safety. It was them I mourned for.

Resting upon a stool, I mirrored the very image of my tired soul, whilst Mary pushed combs through the wet black. Back home, I used to enjoy this. With the fair handmaiden behind me, my blissful mother in the background babbling about matching dresses, handing the servant several veils and pins, and afterwards smiling with pride at the outcome of her work. I would smile back, but not now. Knowing her smile lost in shadows, rotting slowly, the darkness and the cold consuming it.

Nausea violently crawled into the depths of my guts, deepening further still at the old familiar pain blossoming memories dragged behind. I merely pressed few delicate fingers to my lips, to prevent leaning forward to empty the contents of my stomach.

"Your highness, are you well?" Mary inquired, her reflection eyeing me with brief concern.

"I am," I ensured, with feigned confidence. Truth to be told, illness nested within me, and I grew progressively sicker as time went on. Fever had climbed and fallen, waves of mere dizziness had flooded over me and then again ebbed, also as nausea had become a regular companion. Perhaps it was this war, the worry, surely it was the lack of sleep – I assured, to myself only.

Doubtlessly she had not overheard the lie, but refused to push, for what I was grateful.

"Do not," I said when she began tucking my hair under its black netting. "I am tired of keeping my hair bound. No more veils. Give me a braid."

"Of course, my Lady."

* * *

The warden of the North had been very grand indeed, awaiting the Lord Lannister´s arrival. On his left stood his beloved mother, Lady Catelyn, her face grave; on his right stood I, the most unhappy Lady, who, for all the black, did not look to mourn today. I do not beam either, lips barely curved, with a silent prayer upon them.

"Are you pleased, my love?" The Lord of Winterfell, the leader of the northern arms, not my Robb, reached from his stiffened position to touch my chin. "To see some of your family again."

"I am." I glanced sidelong to my mother in law, her mistrust to the Lannisters vivid to the eye.

The streets were lined with those waiting for the Lord of Casterly Rock, murmur of distaste rumbling through the crowd. The _snakes _Lannister were unwelcome to the folks of the north, for each one feared their deathly poison.

Of course my grandfather´s great entourage begins first, barely a taste of what´s to come. And soldiers – at least small part of the western army – were so grandly outfitted that one may think them knighted. _The invincible pride of a lion never fails to make a show of immense greatness._

Tywin Lannister sat tall upon his horse – the largest charger he could find, no doubt; a beast that would make him tower even higher above all unworthy – and he has remembered to wear red.

After the great entrance, the lion dismounts gallantly and leaves his horse to quavering boys who can barely handle the bewildered animal.

"Lord Lannister, we welcome you within the walls of Winterfell," Robb´s voice rang out in greeting, capturing the Lord´s attention.

"Lord Stark," he barely attempted to bow, _for a lion does not cringe to anyone._

The green of Lannister eyes met mine in command, lowering me with only mind into a curtsey. "Grandfather."

"Tania, child, I am truly sorry for your loss." His voice was cold as he spoke, easily turning the sun swathed morning into winter by moments only.

I quickly nodded in acceptance; my eyes busied wandering over the freshly arrived troop of men, hopelessly searching only for a pair of coal eyes.

Frustration whisked bitterly over my features, its blinding fury drawing tears of disappointment from my eyes as the only eyes I found were green and bright. I felt my hands clench into fists, causing my fingernails to dig into my palms and my knuckles to strain against the skin, leaving them white, whilst my soul fell onto its knees within the suit of meat. _The gods have abandoned me. _"Where are you?", I trembled in whisper to the pale white of the sky.

"I do hope you were looking for me, Sis."

_They have not._ My thin fingers uncurled, reaching numbly for the familiar voice. _Where are you? Where are you? Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. _

Blind. Deaf. Mute. I had become beggar for his touch. _Where are you?_

A shadow of memory, of flesh and blood, had me in his embrace of sudden. I inhaled the scent of home, of Kings Landing, of family, of him. "Brother," I whispered hoarsely as my tears soaked into his black clothing. His tightening grip about me had me turn four and ten and fifteen even once again.

"My love," he muttered into the crown of my hair, breathing out deeply.

"Brother, I am dreaming," My voice was but a faint exhale, as I held onto the dream of paradise.

"You are not," he huffed, inching away from me with his hands still at my side, "I shall prove you."

He placed a ticklish kiss to my brow, then the other, my nose, my cheek, the corner of my lips, until he had me smile beneath his adoring lips.

"How have you escaped?" I asked, beaming in thanks to the gods.

"It seems, my little minx had made some arrangements with the Kingslayer," he explained, nudging his nose against mine as he smiled that rare smile of his.

"I saved you," I said smugly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh don´t flatter yourself," he said before tightly wrapping his arms around me once more.

"I missed you," I told him, shutting my eyes.

The awaited response never came; instead I felt his body stiffen. Remaining still in the safety of his arms, I had felt assuring certainty that they would shield me from the Northerners´ watchful glares, but as I riskily turned sideways I just noticed the eyes attached to us. One pair in particular, and they were glowing with jealousy.

Galen tugged me to him for the final time, reminding me of continuing breathing, before he set me free. "Calm Sis." He ordered, his tone encouraging.

A brave smile approached slowly, beaming into Robb´s direction, my hand reaching out for a short wave. "My Love." I saw my brother flinch. "Come, I need to introduce you to someone."

Anxiously I watched as he emerged, the anger stiffening his bones, faltering his graceful walk. He had his head raised; holding Galen´s glare, for my brother was a good foot taller than him. Quickly he marked me as if I was his property by possessively grabbing my hand, earning a mocking look of my sibling, although I had felt rather like caught in a cage. He had always been the one to provoke.

"Robb," I attempted to snap him out his contest in staring, "Robb, my love."

Finally he turned, the blue pools overflowing with boiling rage. _So jealousy was the Stark Lord´s trait, everything has imperfection, I guess. _

"Robb, this is my eldest Brother; Galen Baratheon." I introduced, the unoccupied hand motioning towards him.

The anger, the fury, the jealousy sunk vividly, leaving his face blank of emotion. His grip loosened, his shoulders relaxed, realization did him good.

"And Galen, this is my Husband, Robb Stark," I informed with a smile, drumming my fingers to Robb´s chest.

Only now, danger greeted us with its presence, for now it is the bastard of Baratheon´s jealousy to arise, darkening the coal eyes. As Robb´s hand sought his, awaiting in-between them, angst crowded my throat, not allowing me to breathe properly, in fear my Brother´s untamable fury would crush his hand. I daringly narrowed my eyes on his, pleading.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Stark." He remarked monotone, joining their hands.

"The pleasure is mine."

I smiled weakly.

_If looks could kill._

* * *

Cold fingers of the northern air clutched my naked form though an opened window in a transparent fist, whilst the pale moonlight illuminated my skin, the ethereal cast making it look like porcelain. The wind rustled through the branches of mighty trees, hoarsely whispering faint words of the old tongue to me. I barely still felt Robb´s seed within me, the sweet odor of lovemaking fading in the fresh cold invited in, the layer of sweat glistering upon my skin.

Familiar heat occupied my back; devouring lips touched my shoulder before white silk covered it. I slipped into the offered robe, leaning back against his chest. His hands foamed about me, roughed fingers gently brushing over my exposed stomach. I shivered lightly, leaning further back, softly taking his mouth with mine.

To my disappointment, it was him, who distanced himself, even though he held me in his arms, he seemed long gone. "You never told me of your brother… you seem close." He said, his lips brushing my ear shell.

_"You need to forget me. Please Tania, you need to forget me and find happiness. Never talk of me, never think of me, never, do you hear me? Never. I need you to be happy, but not with me. I am not able to bring you joy in life my love, I do not deserve to love you. Promise me you will move on and begin a new life. Promise me, Tania, promise me." He had pleaded at the edge of tears. _

_"I promise."_

"I did not talk much of my family in particular." I responded, my tone flat.

He only hummed in agreement, stepping back, taking the comfort and warmth of his body with him.

"Something has changed in you… towards me. Outside this room you´re distant, grave, cold – Tania, you´re _ice._ Almost like-" His voice trembled bitterly, the words he was about to say were held back as he bit his tongue.

"Like who Robb?" I asked in suspicion, my brows furrowed.

"Like – like your mother." He spat out, throwing his hands up in defense.

"How dare you?" My voice was raising dangerously, the anger burning through my veins," you idiotic swine! How dare you to talk of my mother while she is in chains?!" I shoved at his chest, taking him by surprise so he stumbled backwards.

"I´m sorry." He reached for my arm apologizing repeatedly, but I moved out of his reach, "It´s just – you´re hiding from me. You´re father died, Tania! And you didn´t mention him _once. Once._ I´m worried about you._" _

He aggressively pulled his hand through the auburn curls, releasing a frustrated sigh as I inched away further. I bit my bottom lip until the iron taste of blood filled my mouth, refusing to drop my cool exterior.

"I can´t do this, not anymore. I´m not loving a mask for the rest of my life. Show me your face Tania, please. Let me in."

"Why?" I asked, desperation coating my voice, "Why? Because I love you?"

"Yes, that´s right Tania! Because you love me. Because you owe me at least that!"

"But loving is self-destruction Robb!" I screamed, my voice slamming off the walls of stone surrounding us, fading into the darkness of the night, "My father, that drunken Lutcher, had loved your aunt and look what he became! How many times had Jon Arryn to save me because he had mistaken me with one of his whores? How many bruises had he left on my mother´s skin? How many scars on my older brother when he was only a child? And I hated him, Robb. I hated that I loved him, I hated what love had done to him. My mother had believed that he would learn to love her! My mother, that heartless beast you foolish people think she is, has endured more pain than any of you could picture. Your aunt was but a corpse and she was a living girl and my father still loved her more than his very own wife. _Love_ was their greatest downfall."

Unable to fight it anymore – to fight _him – _I gave in, my body collapsing into his. My sweaty forehead rested against his chest and my hands fisted into his robe as the emotion I´ve been holding back rippled through my body. Robb´s arms immediately went around me, one stretched across my back, holding my shaking form to him, while the other threaded into my jet-black locks. Tears now streamed down my cheeks, dripping of my chin and into grey silk.

My knees gave out beneath me, but Robb didn´t allow me to fall. Instead, he scooped me up and hugged me to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his shoulder. "It´ll be alright," he spoke into my ear. I clenched my eyes shut and drew a trembling breath at the sound of his voice. It had an abrupt calming effect, but I did not want to be calm, not yet.

"Alright?" Another flare of anger shot through me, I narrowed my eyes. "Alright? How can you say that? My mother might as well be dead! I might as well be an orphan, Robb!"

"Tania–" He began, but I interrupted, shaking my head.

"No Robb. It´s not going to be alright. Not until Stannis is dead. Not until my family is freed. They´re all I have left. I have no one anymore."

"That´s not true. You have me. You´ll always have me." He said, his voice unsteady and his face fixed into an impression that was filled with concern. I held his gaze and tried hard to contain the feelings swelling up inside me. Fresh tears stung at my eyes and I blinked against them. Robb reached out hesitantly and swiped them away with his thumb.

I let my eyes move over his face, and my hand followed. Thin gentle fingers trailed lightly over his cheek. The warmth of his flesh under my skin created an anesthetic pain. "_I don´t want love to destroy me like it has done my family." _

_"She walks in beauty, like the night_

_ Of cloudless climes and starry skies;_

_And all that's best of dark and bright_

_ Meet in her aspect and her eyes;_

_Thus mellowed to that tender light_

_ Which heaven to gaudy day denies._

_One shade the more, one ray the less,_

_ Had half impaired the nameless grace_

_Which waves in every raven tress,_

_ Or softly lightens o'er her face;_

_Where thoughts serenely sweet express,_

_ How pure, how dear their dwelling-place._

_And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,_

_ So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,_

_The smiles that win, the tints that glow,_

_ But tell of days in goodness spent,_

_A mind at peace with all below,_

_**A heart whose love is innocent!"**_

_**- **__She Walks in Beauty Poem by Lord Byron_

**A/N: **

**Yo, the last sentence was from Pink´s song "Family Portrait".**

**I hope you liked it and you leave a review, i wanna know if you´re still interested in this story or not.**

**Thank you for the 200 followers!**

**Lots of love, Med.**


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